Magnetic
by Beawitch
Summary: Six years after the war Unspeakable Hermione Granger and a newly returned Sirius Black are united by one question: How do you build a future when you've come home from the past? Rated M for language, violence and scenes of a sexual nature in later chapters.
1. Chapter One: The Returned

**Disclaimer: **All canon characters, places, plots and situations from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from this.

**Warnings: **Rated M for language, violence and scenes of a sexual nature in later chapters.

**A/N: **After years of lurking, I'm finally taking the plunge to publish a story I've been working on for a few months now. The plot for this story has already been worked out and I write ahead before publishing, so several chapters are ready for last edits. I'm hoping to post at least every other day depending on interest. Constructive criticism and love both welcome!

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**Chapter One: The Returned**

oOoOoOo

It was Christmas morning and in the London borough of Islington, a thin layer of snow dusted all the roofs, fences and tiny front lawns of Grimmauld Place. While its inhabitants celebrated the occasion indoors, the street was particularly quiet, disturbed only by the footfalls of a young woman making her way down the sidewalk. She wore a maroon jumper with an initial knitted into the front, a thick pair of jeans, furry boots and a bobbled woolen hat that was barely holding on to a head of riotous curls. She carried a small beaded bag.

The woman came to a stop between the houses numbered eleven and thirteen, and casting a careful glance around to make sure she wouldn't be seen, stepped forward and disappeared into thin air.

On the front step of number twelve Grimmauld Place, Hermione Granger dusted the snow off her shoulders and hat and sighed happily at the familiar blue door in front of her. Four months away from home was a long time.

Hermione took a deep breath and opened the door, smiling at the cacophony that greeted her. From the bowels of the house came sounds of festivity; clashing and clanging from the kitchen, the high-pitched voices of small children playing and whining, and plenty of adult voices humming through it all. Somewhere a wireless was playing 'A Cauldron Full of Strong Hot Love', which in the year two thousand and four, could rightly be called a golden oldie. The chaos was familiar, and as welcome as a warm hug from a friend. As she entered the house a small group of children came screaming around the corner and into the darkness of the hallway, followed by a tall, skinny red-haired man with one ear. Hermione smiled to herself and made her way to the kitchen.

As expected, the kitchen was a hive of activity as it was almost time for lunch. Harry was standing in a corner feeding spoonfuls of mushy peas to Albus. Ron and Ginny were at the table with Rose between them, and Eva and Mrs. Weasley were prepping vegetables near the sink. It was a sea of red hair, even more now that there was a whole brood of children amongst them. Remus and Tonks were whispering to each other in the corner and Hermione was happy to see her housemates again.

"Merry Christmas everyone!" Hermione called above the din.

"Hermione!" There was a rush and she was nearly suffocated with greetings from the people she had come to consider family. There was a motherly, floury hug from Mrs. Weasley while Harry even leaned Albus forward so the baby could plant a sloppy smooch on her cheek.

"The intrepid explorer returns!" exclaimed Remus, squeezing her around the shoulder with one long arm. Smaller arms encircled her knees in a vice grip that would have made her topple over if it weren't for the sheer bulk of people around her. She looked down to see the shining face of her god-daughter, Rose. Ron and Eva's first child was already four years old.

"Aunty Mione did you bring me a Christmas present?" squealed the little girl, prompting a burst of laughter from Hermione.

"Darling that's a bit rude," said Eva, and Ron shook his head apologetically though he was also smiling.

"She must get it from Ginny," he said, turning to look at his sister who graced him with her trademark scowl.

Hermione kneeled to give her godchild and all the other children present hugs, promising them there would be gifts for everyone later that evening.  
If the room hadn't been filled to capacity as it was, there was a moment of mayhem as Teddy and James came roaring into the kitchen, an irate Fleur following closely on their heels.

"James Sirius Potter, you slow down right this instant before you hurt someone!" shrieked Ginny. As if on command, the black-haired boy bumped into the kitchen counter and a pile of roasted potatoes went tumbling in the wrong direction. As wands whipped out to prevent the potatoes from landing on the kitchen floor, they was a gurgling sound in the corner and Albus coughed up a splat of green all over Harry's front.

"Eeew!" said Rose, accompanied by an assortment of other small voices.

Hermione wrinkled her nose in empathy but gave in to the urge to laugh. This was what she'd missed so much in the last four months. Being around the people she called her family, the place that had become her home.

Thinking back to when they had been children themselves, Hermione remembered this very room being almost impossibly filled with people, Mrs. Weasley's large meals to feed the many mouths that would congregate at Grimmauld during Order meetings. Compared to that, even, these days the long table still needed extension charms to comfortably fit everyone in. It was so long that when they sat down to lunch, Hermione could barely see who was sitting down the other end.

She smiled at Remus, accepting a bowl of salad from him as it made its way around the table. Ron, sitting across from her had picked up a Christmas cracker and Hermione watched out of the corner of her eye, her suspicions proved correct when her friend and his wife pulled the cracker and it exploded in a puff of pink dust, leaving them both with pointy elf ears. Two seats down George and his gaggle of nieces and nephews burst into laughter. Eva smiled good-naturedly but Ron had a terrible scowl on his face and Harry on his other side was stifling his own laughter. "Mate, it never fails to amaze how your brother tests your own products out on you and you fall for it _every _time!"

"So," said Remus, politely diverting her attention. "What was Asia like, Hermione?"

"I could tell you, but then I'd have to Obliviate you," she replied, grinning. As an Unspeakable for the British Ministry of Magic – the very secretive research team that worked in the Ministry's Department of Mysteries – there were many restrictions on what Hermione could tell her friends about her job and she had to think carefully around those before she could answer the question. "I suppose I can tell you about the touristy part of the trip," she said apologetically, but her friends were unbothered. "I missed home," she confessed. "How about you all? Remus? Everything going well at the school?"

Her favourite ex-Professor and close friend had returned to their former school as a permanent Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor a few years after the war had ended. The Ministry had become progressive on the subject of magical creatures, but Remus still faced persecution from those who felt that having a werewolf around children was far too dangerous. Despite this, he'd managed to break the 'curse' rumoured to be attached to the position, as he was the first DADA Professor to have maintained the position for longer than a year. As he regaled her with his stories, Hermione could imagine everything as clearly as if she were at the castle again. Thankfully, her happy memories of Hogwarts hadn't been destroyed by the battle that had taken place there.

When it came to Tonks and Harry, both Aurors, they began to fill her in on the latest developments while she'd been away.

"Well, you know how it's been difficult tracking down the remaining Death Eaters?" said Harry. "Well we think there's a whole underground network of Voldemort loyalists, people who didn't fight in the war but believe the same things the Death Eaters did anyway. We suspect they've been working together to help hide war fugitives."

"It's so much easier to stay hidden when you aren't restricted," surmised Tonks. "We thought they'd have more trouble with movement but this explains what we've been seeing, all these rumours and sightings across the country."

A shiver went through Hermione's body, turning the warmth of the day icy. She realised her hands were trembling, and surreptitiously placed them on her lap and out of sight beneath the table. If she had not recognised what was happening, she would have thought a Dementor had entered the room. She felt rather than saw Remus' frown beside her.

Harry nodded. "The Minister says-"

"No Order or Auror talk at the Christmas table, thank-you-very-kindly!" trilled Mrs. Weasley, and they all looked guiltily her way, changing the subject to lighter matters and time whittled lazily away with chatter and what seemed to be an endless offering of food.

They were in the middle of dessert when they heard the front door open with a bang, and the sound of thick-soled boots knocked against the wood flooring with each step the arrival took. A hush fell over the table and Hermione looked around, confused. He appeared so briefly in the entrance to the kitchen that all she glimpsed was a flash of black hair and stormy grey eyes before the man took the stairs two by two. A few seconds later a door upstairs slammed shut.

"Well I never," said Mrs. Weasley.

"What billiwig bit his bottom today," offered George, digging into his ice-cream.

"Uncle George said bottom!" snitched Victoire, pointing at the offender, and just like that the moment was over as multiple conversations resumed.

Hermione, however, was still trying to process what had just happened. In the excitement and activity of coming home to so many people, he had completely slipped her mind. And it occurred to her that nobody had mentioned him once, not even Harry or Remus.

Four months before, the day before Hermione was scheduled to leave the country, Sirius Black had been pulled from the Veil, alive and perplexed, eight long years after he'd fallen in. To him, the time had passed in the blink of an eye – one second he'd been facing off against his mad cousin, and the next, almost hexing the pants off the Auror who pulled him out.

"What's going on?" asked Hermione, concerned.

"Things have been a bit… difficult with Sirius," said Remus with a sigh. "Well for one thing we hardly ever see him unless we bump into him in the house. He's declined every invitation-"

"From us too," interjected Harry. "And we've been trying to give him his space and not push him but it almost seems worse now that it was a few months ago."

"Some nights he doesn't even come home," said Tonks, her bright pink hair turning black. "And when he does, he's usually reeking of alcohol and perfume."

Remus nodded. "Which to be fair isn't exactly out of Pad's repertoire but it's not the same. It's like there's a thundercloud hanging over his head all the time. He won't talk to anyone."

"But the Healer's report gave him a clear bill of health apart from being underweight, which he'd already been when he fell in anyway. I read it myself," puzzled Hermione.

"He's been like that since he got home," whispered Harry across the table to Hermione. "At first he seemed alright, just a bit shaken up. Understandable, yeah? But he was keen on the boys and I really thought we were getting to know each other again, you know? But in a couple of weeks it all changed."

Hermione could see how this distressed her best friend, who had only ever wanted a family of his own, and after losing his godfather twice, really desired a relationship with the man. She frowned. Though Sirius and herself hadn't had the chance to get very close even she knew how important Harry was to his godfather. And after his 'posthumous' pardon from the Ministry, Sirius could come and go as he pleased. What kind of a man could laugh after he escaped from twelve years of unjust imprisonment, but not when he was completely a free man?

* * *

By eleven pm that night, all the food had been eaten and all the guests had finally left, flooing to their respective homes, sleep heavy children in tow. Hermione had bite her tongue when a very tipsy Ron wanted to apparate home.

"Haven't you been splinched enough in you life, Ronald?" Mrs. Weasley had snapped. Hermione rather thought a good splinch would teach her old friend a lesson about choosing his nookie spots a little more carefully.

Honestly, Hermione was all for spontaneity and being attracted to your spouse years after marriage and children, but the last thing she'd wanted to see when she popped into the pantry earlier was her ex-boyfriend and his wife _in flagrante delicato._ The thought the sight of Ron's arse, pale and freckled as ever, would forevermore be burned into her retinas.

As the fireplace flashed green for the last time, she wearily made her way up the stairs to her bedroom. Jet lag had nothing on Floo Fatigue, she'd discovered. Lost in her thoughts on the multiple unwanted side-effects of traveling by magic, she wasn't looking ahead when she reached the second landing and bumped into something large and very hard that smelled like leather and something else quite nice.

She had no time to ponder the source of the scent as her abrupt stop caused her to lose her footing and she teetered horribly on the stair. She would have tumbled all the way back down if it weren't for the hand that shot out and grabbed her around the wrist, yanking her back on her feet. She snatched at her beaded bag before it rolled all the way down the stairs emptying its contents.

"Oh I really shouldn't have drunk all that Elf Wine, I'm so sorry-" She looked up to thank her rescuer and was met by dark grey eyes.

Sirius, standing there, his hand still painfully circled around her wrist, was looking down at her like he'd seen a ghost. Vaguely she realised the scent of leather had come from the jacket he was wearing. She smiled at him, feeling oddly uneasy.

"Hi Sirius," she said, "I was hoping-" but he let go of her wrist like it burned him, and pushed past her.

"I'm going out,"he mumbled and before she could blink he'd thundered down the stairs and out the front door.  
Thankfully Mrs. Black's portrait had long been removed from the stairwell.

Hermione rubbed at her aching wrist as she readied herself for bed. Despite the many happy memories of the day, between the news about the Death Eaters and Sirius' odd behaviour, she felt the low hum of anxiety in her bones as she slipped between the sheets. Unsurprisingly when her eyes fluttered open in the darkness, it was still the early hours of the morning. She groaned, disoriented at being back in her own bedroom. She twisted and turned in the sheets for a few minutes before admitting defeat; there was no way she was going to get back to sleep like this.

Tucking her wand into the waistband of her pyjamas shorts, she padded down to the kitchen for a cup of milky tea. Hopefully, that would do the trick. When she entered the kitchen she flicked her hand at the fireplace and it burst into low flames. For a moment she soaked in the ease with which she had performed the wandless magic before she became aware that she wasn't alone. In a split second her wand was out, pointed squarely toward the breakfast bar where somebody was sitting hunched over in the shadows.

"Who's there?" she demanded, but the person simply mumbled. "Lumos." The light helped her see the leather jacket, and dirty boots perched on the chair rung and she realised it was Sirius, home from whatever jaunt he'd been on and by the sound of it, pissed out of his mind. He was looking at her, a sullen, pensive expression on his fact, the tattooed fingers of one hand curled around a glass of whiskey. She started at his appearance, taking a sharp breath. There were dark circles beneath the wizard's eyes, an unkempt beard that obliterated his jawline and his hair was stringy with sweat. Suddenly she wished she'd worn a robe because it seemed that while she'd been assessing his condition, he had been doing the same to her. Trying to look unaffected, she set the kettle to boil. When she turned to fetch a mug, however, she got a fright to see her was standing right there in front of her, inches from her face.

"Merlin Sirius, you gave me a bloody fright!" she swore. His breath smelled stale, of cigarettes and whiskey and she turned her cheek to escape it.

"And who might you be, lovely lass, standing in my kitchen?" he brokenly slurred, his eyes glazed. _He doesn't recognise me, _she realised.  
His proximity and the shock of seeing him again up close after so many years had frozen her and it was only when he wrapped a grubby hand around around the curve in her waist, leaned forward and slurred "You have the loveliest tits darlin'," that her hands came up an shoved him away from her. He lurched backwards dangerously.

"Sirius it's me! Hermione!" she shrilled.

For a moment there were no other sounds in the kitchen except their breathing, hers shallow, his raspy, and the crackle of the fire. He was looking at her again, bewildered. Then his eyes widened and he jumped back, dropping his whiskey. Hermione flinched, silently thanked Mrs. Weasley for her handy slippery-fingers charm as the glass hit the stone floor and bounced, whiskey splattering all over her bare feet and his boots. He swore, rubbing his eyes furiously.

"Bloody buggering fuck!"

Concerned, Hermione reached out to touch his arm, but he staggered a couple steps back, nearly falling over. He held a hand out to her.

"Don't touch me."

"Sirius?" Hermione was trembling a little with adrenalin.

"Don't come near me sweetheart," he was saying, "Gods, a _sixteen _year old, Pads this is a new low even for you-"

He mumbled a few other things and Hermione picked up the words 'Dumbledore', 'Remus' and 'Azkaban' before she realised what was happening.

"Sirus, I'm not sixteen, I'm twenty-five," she said gently.

Either way he had been a drunken letch, of course, but he was obviously distressed thinking he'd made a pass at a teenager. At her words, his eyes flickered up to hers, and she was shocked to see the depth of confusion and pain in them. His body language changed, losing its languor and becoming like a trapped cat, skittish and unsure. She stepped forward intending to calm him, but he staggered backwards again and tripped over his own foot, cracking the back of his skull against the wall.

"Sirius!"

Hermione rushed over, using an arm under one of his, around his back to support him. Despite being too thin, he was heavy and she somehow managed to half coax, half drag him a few wobbly steps into the living room. She eased him onto the nearest sofa but he fell on his arse like a sack of potatoes. He groaned, leaning forward and holding his head in hands, and she examined the back of his skull, grimacing as she used her fingers to brush through his hair. It was only a surface wound. Relieved, she pulled out her wand and cast a light healing spell. He hissed as the magic did it's work.

"There, it wasn't so bad. Why don't you sit up?" she coaxed.

When he didn't respond, she placed a hand on his back and was surprised to find he was shaking. For a moment she thought that perhaps his injury was more severe than she'd judged but then she heard the unmistakeable hitch in his breath and realised that he was _crying. _At the age of twenty-five, Hermione had had plenty of practice with drunk, crying men. What unsettled her was the silence of his grief; he sobbed hard, but there made barely any noise to accompany the violent shake of his body. She squeezed onto the sofa beside him, distressed, and hesitantly placed a comforting hand on his back. She was surprised to hear him speak.

"I keep bollixing everything up," he moaned, his voice still slurred. "My whole life, being a bloody waste of space and every time I try-" he broke off breathlessly. "Nothing makes sense anymore, I blinked, I bloody _blinked_ and everything changed again. I don't know how to be me anymore, I don't even know if I fucking want to."

Her heart sank at his words. They hadn't worked so hard to bring him back only for him to wish that they hadn't. A streak of guilt ran through her for not being there at all after he'd come back; although she'd been involved the retrieval process, she hadn't been there for his recovery. Or, judging by the broken man in her arms, the lack of thereof. Not for the first time Hermione found herself ruminating on the lack of proper psychological care for magical folk in the wizarding community. After the war so many of her classmates had turned to ways of coping that despite them surviving the actual battle, had resulted in their deaths anyway.

She realised he had stopped shaking, and by the heavy sway of his body against hers she knew he'd passed out. With effort she rolled him gently onto the sofa, lifting his legs over the armrest. His larger frame was cramped to fit, but it would have to do. She pulled off his boots and summoned a blanket from the ottoman nearby, covering him with it. Before she returned to bed, sans tea, she cast an eye over him and noticed the dried blood on his knuckles. On his cheekbone the start of what promised to be a brilliant shiner was blooming.

"Oh Sirius," she whispered into the silence of the night. She felt quite tired after all.

* * *

**_Sneak Peek Chapter Two. _**

_"You look like you've been kicked in the face by a Hippogriff", she said by way of greeting. He grunted, lifting his eyes to hers. "Well good morning to you too, love."_


	2. Chapter Two: Static Magicality

**Disclaimer: **All canon characters, places, plots and situations from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from this.

**Warnings: **Rated M for language, violence and scenes of a sexual nature in later chapters.

**A/N: **Thank you to everyone who's taken the time to review and are following this story. I'm in the process of finding a beta, so please bear with any errors for now - I didn't want to keep you all waiting until that had happened. As before, please share your constructive criticism and tell me what you enjoy about this story too.

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**Chapter Two: Static Magicality**

oOoOoOo

Sirius Black felt like shit.

After the chaos that had filled his childhood home on Christmas day, Grimmauld seemed unnaturally still and quiet the next morning. Although, next to the pounding in his own head anything could be considered 'quiet'. Remus and Tonks had both left for work already, dropping Teddy off at school on the way. Neither of them had offered him more than a watery smile and a nod as they passed him sprawled in the living room, treating him like a landmine about to discharge. "Uncle Sirius isn't feeling well Teds, let's be quiet."

So what, maybe he liked it better that way.

He slipped off the sofa, groaning at the pain in his neck and back from sleeping cramped all night. Wrapping the blanket around him like a cloak, he shuffled into the kitchen in search of something to ease his discomfort. The muggle Italian coffee maker caught his eye but he still hadn't figure out how it worked and neither Remus or Tonks seemed to use it, so it must belong to their other housemate. Thinking about that made him recall the night before and that was something he really wanted to put off thinking about until absolutely necessary. Preferably after a very strong cup of coffee. Or a bludger to the head. He knew they had instant coffee, alas, they were fresh out of bludgers. He was sitting at the kitchen bar cradling his steaming cup and feeling miserable for himself when she walked in.

"You look like you've been kicked by a Hippogriff," she said, by way of greeting. He grunted, lifting his eyes to hers.

"Well good morning to you too, love."

She was silent as she surveyed the room; the kitchen was a tip after yesterday, and he watched as she tidied up with a few efficient flicks of her wand. The pot-scrubber soaped itself and went to work on a pile of dirty dishes, while a bucket filled up with soapy water and a mop zoomed out from somewhere to begin cleaning the floor. She raised her wand again and all the rubbish in the room flew up into a clump that hung in the air until she whizzed that off with a silent Evanesco. She looked around, and with a satisfied nod, she finally pointed her wand at the Italian coffee machine and it whirred to life. He couldn't help being impressed, and she caught his eye, quirking an eyebrow.

"No house elves around here," she said, pointedly. "I saw the state of the bathroom."

Oh that was right – their bedrooms were on the same floor so they'd have to share the bathroom. Cleaning hadn't exactly been high on his priority list the last while.

He watched as she grabbed her coffee and took a seat at the bar with him, inhaling the steam rising from her cup. The rich scent of good coffee reached his nose, making his mouth water, and he looked down into his own cup at the murky grey-brown liquid there. Awkward from the night before, he felt like he had to fill the silence with words.

"Nobody in this house besides you can work that bloody contraption," he said, gruffly. To his surprise, she leaned closer and wrinkled her nose at his cup. With an ease that seemed almost arrogant, she flicked her wand at the machine and it began to make another cup. He noticed that she'd taken a seat one away from him and it made him self-conscious, suddenly painfully aware that he probably looked as though he'd crawled out of a sewer. If he could remember what he had done the night before, he wouldn't have been surprised to discover it wasn't far from the truth. He looked, and smelled like a vagrant while she sat there fresh, clean and completely at ease, one bare foot curled underneath her. He wished he had a hangover potion, or best still another bottle of Firewhiskey and maybe had also obliviated himself so he wouldn't now be soaking in the contrast between them, and the knowledge that he had turned into someone even his former convict self would have found a little pathetic.

She sipped her coffee, eyes closing in pleasure and he took the opportunity to really look at her. The colour was high in her cheeks, making her look healthy. She held herself with poise and yet seemed completely down to earth in her mannerisms. Her hair was a cascade of honey curls, drastically changed from the frizz bomb he remembered. She seemed so very different from, and yet somehow the same as the teenager he remembered. For some unfathomable reason, he found himself scrambling to fill the silence again.

"So have you lived here as long as my cousin and Moony?" he asked.

"Moony? Oh yes, Remus." She shook her head. "No, after school I shared a flat with the boys. Harry and Ron," she clarified, unnecessarily. He remembered how the three of them had been joined at the hips. "But then they went off and got married and it's hell trying to find a decent, private one-bedroom flat in London, so Remus and Tonks suggested I move in with them." She took another sip of her coffee and then suddenly started. "Oh," she said, suddenly serious. "Are you alright with me living here? Only it's your house and Merlin, I didn't even think to ask-"

He waved a hand dismissively. "Of course it's fine, love. I always wanted this dreary old place to have a new lease on life." He looked around at the changes, and thought about the people that had filled this room the day before. "It certainly looks as though you've all done just that", he said, almost under his breath. He couldn't mask the bitterness that escaped with his words and regretted it as the atmosphere in the room shifted. He dropped his eyes to the table.

"Sirius," she said, "I want to talk about last night."

He immediately began to fidget, looking into his coffee cup as though he were a Seer divining tea leaves. "Yeah, sorry about that," he said eventually, his voice gruff with reluctance.

"You don't have to be sorry Sirius, there's nothing to be ashamed of."

Yet embarrassment – when had this become such a familiar feeling to Sirius Black? – washed over him when he realised she was talking about the equally mortifying bit where he'd cried all over her the night before. "Um, not that. Well yes that too, but the… ogling," he finished lamely, gesturing in the direction of her chest while making very sure not to drop his eyes to the aforementioned area. She laughed, surprising him again. He'd expected anger, or at the very least a stern talking to. That's the girl he remembered.

"It's okay," she said. "You didn't get handy. Even Harry and Ron have hit on me when they've been pissed." She grinned, shaking her head. "Hopelessly predictable the lot of you, really. First you drink, then you get weepy. Honestly I think you'd flirt with a Flobberworm if you were drunk enough."

Thinking about his recent escapades, he couldn't disagree with that. "Yes well, I am sorry for disturbing your night with my problems, I'd like it if we just forgot the whole thing, yeah?" he said, looking up to see the smile fade quickly off her face.

"There's no need to apologise for that," she said sharply. "If you think you're the first person in this house that's had a moment like that after everything we've been through, you're wrong." He realised that she was trying to reassure him, but her words drew his guilt to the surface like poison. She was frowning at him. "Sirius, what's going on with you? And don't try to say it's nothing," she said and reached out to place a hand on his, startling him. He looked down at their hands. Her skin was fair and unmarked, soft and achingly innocent in contrast to his own, dark and etched with tattoos and hair. An inexplicable fury began to build in the center of his chest, radiating outwards. He must've been in a worse off state than he thought, to let himself get into a vulnerable position with this witch. He wasn't going to touch Firewhiskey ever again. A week, at least.

"Look, I've apologised-" he started, realising that he had said sorry that morning more than he had since his return. She shook her head, cutting him off.

"This is not about last night, Sirius, this is about the last four months. Why have you been so distant from everyone? Why aren't you talking to Remus or Harry? Why weren't you at the Christmas lunch?" Her questions were an assault on his sore head. "What's going on with you Sirius?" There was a painfully awkward silence and he bounced a leg anxiously, sure that a little more confrontation would push him over the edge. When it was clear he wasn't going to say anything, she sighed. "Let me try," she was saying, her voice more gentle than before and he couldn't help looking up at her. She continued without any response from him.  
"I think you're feeling displaced and you've had so little experience of genuine freedom as an adult that it's confusing to have it all now. It must be horribly disorientating to come back to your best mate being almost a decade older than you, and missing more of Harry's life. And I know you hate that you missed the war."

Her words surprised him, bringing a deep pain bubbling up into his chest. He moved back warily. "Are you a Legilimens?" he demanded, his left hand twitching towards his wand. This would really be the last straw.

"I'm not reading your mind Sirius", she said, earnestly. "You told me as much last night, and I've learned a little bit about people while you've been gone. I just wanted to talk with you because I heard you've been having a tough time since you got back and I wanted to let you know that it's normal."

His desire for absolution warred with his self-hatred, indignant at being counseled so boldly by a woman half his age. He snapped. "And what the fuck do you know about it little girl?" he spat. She flinched, and the ugliness in his chest grew. "Oh I remember you alright, the same fucking know-it-all right there…" He trailed off, not really sure where the words had come from in the first place, feeling horribly, angrily exposed. She had stiffened at his words and he waited for the tears, maybe a well-deserved slap but all she did was look at him with a coldness he didn't think she had in her.

"What I know, Sirius, is that half my classmates have been in the special ward at St. Mungos, either due to irreversible curse damage, or because when you see your friends and family die around you in horrible ways, it tends to mess with your mind." He was not an exceptionally tall or large man, but compared to the witch across from him, Sirius was both. And yet in that moment it seemed like she was growing with ire, shrinking him with the crackling power she seemed to be holding back. "What I know, Sirius, is that in the three years after the war there was an unprecedented abuse of Calming and Dreamless Sleep draughts. I know that when all of us who survived go to sleep, we see the faces and hear the voices of our friends and family that we could not save-"

He slammed a closed fist on the tabletop and the empty coffee cups rattled violently. "Don't talk to me about loss, I lost my friends, my family years ago! I've lost years!" he shouted. She snorted, a bitter sound.

"You're not the only one who's lost people, Sirius." There was a tremble in her voice. "I'm not trying to make you feel guilty, but you will _not_ sit there and talk to me like I don't know what it feels like to try and make sense of a world that just doesn't any longer!"

How had their awkward, polite reunion turned into this? He opened his mouth to deliver something biting, something that would put her in her place but then he noticed the unshed tears in her eyes, the way she turned her face away from him, blinking irritably, and he felt awful. It was so quiet he could hear the ticking of the grandfather clock in the next room. It felt like minutes passed by in silence.

"I've been a right arsehole," he blurted finally.

"Really? I hadn't noticed," she said dryly, not missing a beat, and his voice rang out in a bark of shocked laughter. She smiled wryly. Amazingly, the tension in the room dissipated a little. The change in the atmosphere was giving him emotional whiplash. He wondered again if magic was involved. What was she doing to him? He hesitated before speaking again.

"I'm just living up to expectations, aren't I?"

Her eyes widened. "Is that what this is about? Sirius, you've had a lot of your time taken away from you, unfairly. But there are no guarantees. All we have is here and now. I think it's safe to say we've all changed, so if you're making yourself miserable trying to live up to these expectations you say people have, you're wasting precious time. You're here to stay," she said, squeezing his hand, and he felt rather as though her fingers were around his heart instead. It was an uncomfortable sensation. "No Azkaban, no Veil. But also no promises. One day at a time, that's how we're all doing it. You've been given a gift."

"And what if I didn't want it?" he mumbled petulantly. She gave a frustrated sigh.

"If you're really that ungrateful and helplessly miserable, then you are most welcome to go throw yourself back into the Veil," she said simply. Her unkindness astonished him into speechlessness. "What? If you're willing to throw it all away, to hurt the people who love you and ruin any chance of happiness you have, that's your choice."

"I don't know what you think you're doing, but I'm sure encouraging someone to commit suicide isn't helpful!" he said, taken aback.

"I'm not doing that. I'm pointing out that you have choices. Even if you're sorry to be back, we're not. Nobody blames you for anything. But whether you want… this," she gestured towards his him, "or want something else is your choice. You want to stay and be a part of this crazy family? Great. You want to go live on a deserted island? Do it. We'll miss you. Harry will miss you. But it'll be okay, because we know what it's like and we just want you to be happy."

"When did you get so wise, Hermione Granger?" he said, falling back on humour to cover the discomfort he felt at the way she'd burrowed her way through his walls.

"I've always been wise, Sirius, it's just always been you lot who never listen," she said primly, getting up to put their mugs in the sink. Sirius moaned, rubbing a hand over his sore head and wondering if he was actually awake. Whoever thought there'd come a day when he'd see a playful Granger? It was another thing about this woman that jarred with the memory of the person he used to know. It was actually difficult for him to not to stare at her – he had never been able to resist admiring a pretty woman, and the knowledge that to him at least, she'd been just a teen less than half a year ago didn't change the fact that she had grown up.  
She _really_ had grown up. He ran his eyes over her womanly curves, the long tanned neck, flat belly and tumbling honey curls. Her bare feet were nicely shaped, the toenails polished a deep pink colour. Even her eyes were the colour of whiskey… eyes that were currently looking right at him.

"Eh? What?" he asked, gracelessly, even as his inner dialogue argued.  
_For Merlin's sake man, pull yourself together. She's half your age.  
Well technically not.  
That's not the point! She's Harry's age.  
Harry's an adult.  
She's his best friend!"  
I'm just looking!_

She was standing by the entrance to the kitchen, a hint of amusement playing around her mouth. "I said, you should really think about talking to Remus. He misses you, you know. And Harry. You may be surprised at how much they would understand." He inclined his head to indicate that he'd heard her. He wasn't going to commit to anything.

"Oh and Sirius?"

"Yes love?"

She wrinkled her nose. "You might want to wash. You reek." And then she _sashayed_ out of the room, leaving him speechless again.

_Cheeky wench! _

He took her advice, watching and thinking about the last ten hours as the hot water sluiced over his skin, running towards the drain in grimy rivulets.  
Hermione had him stumped. One minute she'd been soft and caring, so empathetic he still wasn't convinced there wasn't magic involved. The next she was as good as telling him he could top himself if he wanted! The witch had gotten to him, and he blamed the surreal events of the night before for weakening him to her. Still… she was the first person from 'before' who had spoken to him like he wasn't fragile, wasn't about to fall to pieces. And regardless that he felt that way some days, it was a nice change. Her insight into some of the things that he himself hadn't been able to, or didn't want to articulate, was eerie, leaving him feeling more vulnerable and exposed than he had in a long time. It wasn't pleasant. He wasn't sure which scared him more, the sense that the tenuous strings holding him together had been prodded for integrity and found wanting, or that for the first time in months, he'd felt a spark of life running through his veins, forcing him to be in the present.

The irony that he had received from a bossy young woman and a cup of coffee some taste of what he'd been chasing after all this time, with the clubs and the women and the drinking, was not lost on him. He growled, agitated, tangling his fingers through matted hair as he washed away the residue from the night's activities. The vigorous movement reminded him just how delicate he was feeling after last night's binge, and pressed his hands against the wall of the shower, leaning forward and letting the pressure of the water massage his head. He used to care about the way he looked, even after he'd escaped from Azkaban. Granted, there wasn't much he could do about it, but he still cared. Now, bizarrely, his status as an ex-convict increased his appeal amongst witches, even though it was clear that he hadn't been taking care of himself. He could feel the protruding ribs when he soaped his chest, the absence of muscle strength that he'd taken for granted until it withered away. No wonder he'd been coming off second best in bar brawls. He looked down. Even _that _looked disappointed and tired. Despite all of this, he knew he was a good looking man, and he knew how to say all the right words, a well-versed script. And if he wasn't in the mood to drown himself in casual sex, booze always helped to numb the shit feelings. And if that wasn't enough, he could count on a good punch-up to get his blood pumping. After all, who was he if not the Legendary Sirius Black?

That was his problem right there. Who the fuck was Sirius Black? He cursed the woman for setting his mind on this train of thought, everything he tried to avoid looking too hard at coming into clear focus. He sounded like a fucking nancy, worrying about 'finding himself'. Yet. If he's honest with himself, he doesn't know how to be a godfather to a grown man with children of his own. Or how to process the graying hair on his best friend's face, or that out of the people who mean most to him, his baby cousin is now the closest to him in age. Everyone had their own lives, and the last time he had been independent was twenty years ago. _Twenty._ So at a loss for what to do, he had been doing what was easiest, what was familiar. Isn't that what everyone wanted anyway, the charming, arrogant, reckless Sirius Black? _You've hardly been charming. _

_What about what you want_, Hermione's voice said inside his own head. _What's your choice? _He sneered at this extremely unmanly thread of thought, rubbing his hair with a towel before wrapping it around his waist and heading to his bedroom. He needed a good, long sleep. The door to her bedroom was closed, and he could hear nothing as he passed. His room, however, was an absolute tip. He knew it had been messy and not exactly fresh, but how had he failed to notice how disgusting it had gotten? It was as though the bloody witch had climbed into his brain and scraped his eyes clean. It was difficult to maintain his grudge against her when he noticed a vial of Hangover Potion on his bedside table, resenting the fact that he couldn't even resent her in peace!

Godric's hairy bollocks.

* * *

**_Sneak Peek Chapter Three. _**

_"Muggle flea market," he responded, and asked her if she'd like a game. She'd perked up at that. Apart from Remus, nobody else really enjoyed games like these. "If you're sure," she'd said, borrowing a little of his cockiness for a moment. "I am terribly good at this game though, you sure you want to play?"_


	3. Chapter Three: Thawing Out

**Disclaimer: **All canon characters, places, plots and situations from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from this.

**Warnings: **Rated M for language, violence and scenes of a sexual nature in later chapters.

**A/N: ** I'm posting this chapter a day later than I intended to because both my cat and I are ill at the moment and he's a diva on _good_ days. I usually write in the evenings and that's also when he decides to come home from his daytime meandering and he has a lot of rules about what can and cannot happen at that time. For example I must not play the guitar, or sit at my computer. I must be in a place where he can sit squashed up against or poured over me, and once we (he) is comfortable, we (I) must not move or we have to start the whole rigmarole over again. I love him to bits though and he's old so I like to be there for him the way he's been there for me. Pet lovers will understand.

* * *

**Chapter Three: Thawing Out  
**

oOoOoOo

Hermione walked down the dark hallway towards the Department of Mysteries, her heels clicking loudly on the black tiled floor. At the very opposite end a black door leading to the entrance chamber she had first seen as a child, the very night that Sirius had fallen through the Veil. As she closed the door behind her, the circular room spun and when it stopped, she whispered an incantation that lit up the door to the office. Even after two weeks back at work she was enjoying being behind her desk again. Although her travel had been an experience she wouldn't take back, it was a demanding way to live, socially and psychologically, especially for someone like her who liked things just so. She remembered one particular visit to Mongolia, where her destination was so remote, the closest things she had to companions – apart from her extremely reserved hosts – was a herd of goats. Compared to that, the prospect of her desk with all her notes in one place was extremely attractive.

The office for the Unspeakables was actually a large room with a domed ceiling carved out of solid rock, with pairs of workspaces dotted around its vast circumference. The effect was that of a cavernous underground ballroom with desks waltzing around the outskirts. There were only four sets of workstations accommodating two people each. Hermione's favourite thing about her office was the bookshelves that lined every inch of the wall, going up two stories. Here were stored all the documents, reference and magic books her little heart desired.

"Good morning lovely," greeted her station-mate, Marietta. Tall, blonde and blue-eyed – the complete opposite of Hermione herself – Mari wouldn't have been out of place in a catalogue for expensive robes, but she was also a very highly skilled Potions Mistress. "I tell you what Books, it was rather boring around these parts without you here for so long. It's brilliant having you back," said Mari.

Hermione gave her friend a cheery smile. Although being co-workers in a fairly secretive department made it difficult to form relationships that translated easily outside the workplace, within these walls Hermione couldn't imagine sharing her space with any of her other colleagues. Especially not the dark-haired man across the room currently shooting glances her way. Unsubtly. Mari gave her a knowing look.

"So what happened between you and Kris?" she asked, leaning against her desk as Hermione settled at hers. Hermione had dated the guy _very _briefly the year before, and dating a co-worker was a mistake she would never make again.

The chamber was spelled not to carry sounds or echo, but the women lowered their voices out of habit. "He would only talk about work", Hermione whispered. "At first I thought it was just nerves. I mean, we're both Unspeakables, it seemed a natural subject to help us ease into the date… but _that's all he would talk about. Literally. _Every time I tried to talk about something else we would somehow come back to how incredibly intelligent he is, how he got to this job. Seriously, we work in the same department!"

Mari laughed, a low melodious sound. "Go easy on the guy Hermione, most of them don't really have much to brag about and you're intimidating." Hermione rolled her eyes. She hated hearing that about herself, even when it came from Ginny.

_"__You're scary Hermione, brilliant but scary! You're a war hero. Harry Potter is your best friend and everyone knows you're more than just a brain. Circe, you've ridden a dragon! Most of your friends are celebrities." _

That's what irked Hermione the worst. She understood that being at the epicenter of a war would create interest; it was one of the reasons she had been able to become an Unspeakable at such a young age, why Harry already led his own Auror Team. Both were the youngest in their positions, but then they had cut their teeth on the sacrifice of their childhoods. What she hadn't been prepared for was the _celebrity_. One of the reasons she loved her job was that she was out of the public eye on a daily basis. Her work was a haven to her, a place and subject she could disappear into. Dating a co-worker had stirred the pot.

"You think I should give him another chance?" she asked Mari, feeling guilty.

"No way," said Mari, and Hermione stared at her.

"But you just said…"

"I _said _that you could afford to be a little more lenient in your dating method, but he's all wrong for you Books."

She suddenly found herself in the strange position of defending her choices. "He's intelligent, polite, discrete, good-looking-" She ticked the attributes off her fingertips.

"You mean, book-smarts, boring, pretty faces don't last and you've already said the conversation kills you. And I promise you darling, it's the quiet ones that'll stab you in the back."

Hermione knew all too well the backlash that followed her love life. Celebrity attracted all the wrong kinds of men. The types who just wanted to be seen on her arm, to display her as a trophy, get close to the Golden Trio, or get their fifteen minutes of fame in the Daily Prophet. Men who just wanted to brag that they had bedded Hermione Granger. She had learned some difficult lessons in the few years following the war. She sighed, crossing her arms on the desk in front of her and resting her forehead on her hands. "It's so _hard _to meet anyone," she whined. "Sometimes I wonder if there's any point, I'm fine by myself." She looked up to see Mari giving her another one of her knowing looks. She was good at that. It was annoying.

"Darling it's hard for all of us, but you're a whole other story."

They had had this discussion before, about what being surrounded by such high profile men _wasn't _doing for her love life. As if she weren't intimidating enough, she had more than a handful of 'brothers' who felt protective about her and this, ironically, had the unfortunate effect of scaring off any nice guys that might be interested in pursuing her.

"Well what about you?" she said, inspired, eager to take the spotlight off herself. "What's happening in your love life these days?"

"Not much going on," said Mari, but her cheeks tinged pink, to Hermione's surprise. Mari was not a blusher.

"Godric, you're actually lying to me," laughed Hermione, scandalised. "Who is it?"

Mari sighed, looking completely torn. "I can't tell you right now… he's kind of well-known and it's new, so we're keeping it quiet."

"This sounds serious," teased Hermione. "Are we talking marriage material?" she asked, knowing exactly how much Mari disliked the 'institution of marriage'.

"Hermione Granger you've got a dirty mouth," Mari protested, the two of them giggling like schoolgirls as they set about their work.

Two more weeks went by and she was still haunted by a gigantic stack of paperwork on her desk each day. By the end of that Friday, she was bursting for her daily run. The moment she donned her running gear and apparated into the park, she immediately felt a sense of peace wash over her. Unfortunately, it did not last. Ten minutes into her run she had felt the eerie sensation of being followed. The sun was setting and the shadows growing deep. She threw glances behind and around her, pressing her elbow against her hip for the security of her wand. There was suddenly hard panting and she turned around, shrieking as a large black dog came running up behind her. She fumbled to pull out her wand. 'Oh Merlin this is it', she thought, 'survived psychotic Dark Lord, ripped to shreds by man's best friend'. How embarrassing. She braced for an impact that never came, and when she opened her eyes the dog had bypassed her entirely and thrown itself on the grass beside the path, writhing stupidly on its back with the widest doggy grin she'd even seen. Then she recognised him. Padfoot!

"Oh you horrible man!" she said, half-laughing with relief even as her eyes watered involuntarily. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it in her skull. Padfoot sat up, cocking his head to the side to look at her, and the second her hand twitched towards her wand he set off running down the path at breakneck speed until he was just a black smudge in the evening light. Ooh he made her so mad!

Sirius had improved so much since their talk the day after last Christmas and she was proud of him, but she'd never say it. His head was big enough as it was. He was also a bloody menace who took perverse delight in seeing how far he could push her. He was an incorrigible flirt, as arrogant, vain and reckless as ever and she had become a popular target for his amusement. She could also tell that at least some part of his effort to reconnect with his friends came from that place of guilt. He still went out most nights and swilled Firewhiskey like mouthwash, and spent most days lounging around Grimmauld, complaining that he was bored. Not everything was the same though; he was also more thoughtful, responsible and of all things, intelligent. Not that he wasn't smart, but she'd never realised how much he actually knew. She remembered the day he'd brought home a second-hand box of Scrabble, surprising her with it in the library.

"Where'd you get that?" she'd said.

"Muggle flea market," he responded, and asked her if she'd like a game. She'd perked up at that. Apart from Remus, nobody else really enjoyed games like these. "If you're sure," she'd said, borrowing a little of his cockiness for a moment. "I am terribly good at this game though, you sure you want to play?"

Twenty minutes later Hermione had been eating her words. They were both lying on their bellies on library floor, the board game between them. Sirius had just placed down three letters and scored no less that twenty-four points. "How in the world do you know that word," she'd said, her mouth running ahead of her brain as it often did when she was especially surprised.

"So amazed, love", he'd laughed. "I do read, you know." She'd blushed at her tactlessness.

"But then, why do you speak like… like… Jack Sparrow?" she'd exclaimed, exasperated.

"Who?"

"Ugh, never mind. Muggle thing. Let's take a break, I'm starving."

He was still looking at the board. "I think," he said, rearranging some of his letters. "That I am disinclined to acquiesce to your request." He grinned naughtily at her as her jaw dropped and she'd smacked him on the shoulder, making him duck.

"Sirius Black you terrible liar!" He'd laughed then.

Remus said that they'd been spending more time together, and Harry was also pleased that his godfather had taken an interest in his family again. "Gin's a bit cautious after last year but he's amazing with the kids Hermione, you should see it." Work had kept her so busy that as they neared the end of February it'd been almost a month since she'd gone to a Burrow Sunday lunch. It was a lucky thing that Harry worked in the same building as she did, as they were able to meet for lunch in the canteen, something they did as often as possible. "It's really nice seeing how good he is with them," continued Harry. "I think it's good for him too. He never got to be the godfather he wanted to be with me."

"How's Ginny doing?" asked Hermione. The red-head was pregnant again, and from the sounds of the Floo calls she'd been having with her friend, she was miserable with morning sickness.

"It'll clear up in a few weeks, it was the same with both the boys," said Harry.

"Poor Gin. I wonder why they call it morning sickness when it happens all times of the day and night," mused Hermione.

"No clue, all I know is that it's bloody hard at the moment. I'm working overtime, she's feeling so wretched and it's even more difficult now with two boys. Molly takes them a couple nights here and there, but we don't really want that, you know how she works herself to the bone and it's not like there isn't at least one grandchild at their house every night. I've no time to fuss over Ginny," he said. "I think she's feeling a little neglected."

"What about Sirius?" asked Hermione. "He's been babysitting a bit for you guys, right? What if he took them for a night and you could take Gin somewhere nice?"

"That's not a bad idea," mused Harry, taking a sip of his tea.

"You look like you need a night off too," Hermione said, taking in the dark circles beneath Harry's eyes.

"I'm working over-time with all this," he looked around before lowering his voice. "We raided a house in Kimpton last week, found three vampires who fought for Voldemort. They were hiding in a back room, gods the smell Hermione. There was a couple living in the house, the husband was bringing them people, beggars off the street, homeless folk- oh, sorry Hermione," he said, as she turned a little green over her sandwich. "We probably wouldn't have even known it wasn't a report in the Muggle papers. They're becoming our best source lead for these guys."

Hermione sighed, feeling her shoulders cramp. Harry reached out to place a hand over hers. "We're getting there Hermione."

"Sorry," she said. "Here you are risking your life as always and I'm the one complaining. I just wish it could all be over, you know? Six years later and Voldemort's still got us running."

"This was my choice Hermione, I knew what I was getting into when I joined the Aurors. There's always going to be dark wizards out there."

"I know that," she relented. "But I wish it was more Mundungus Fletchers instead of Death Eaters, you know?" He grasped her hand, squeezing understandably.

"How… how are the nightmares?" he asked. "Getting worse?"

"Yes," she said, her voice soft and miserable. "It's horrible, and last week I forgot to cast a Muffliato before I went to bed, and of course, I have a horrible one and Sirius heard everything. Harry, he came running into my room thinking I was being attacked. It was embarrassing." She remembered the awkward moment when she'd woken up and nearly punched him in the face.

"Hermione." Harry was sympathetic. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about, especially not that."

"I know, I'm being a complete hypocrite. It's just… I didn't want him to see me that way. I don't want anyone to see me that way but with Sirius it feels worse because he manages to twist things so it's his fault in some way, for not being there in the war."

Harry swallowed a piece of pie. "If you ask me, I think the both of you could really do with a distraction."

"What do you suggest?"

"Well he needs to find something to actually do with his time, for one, and you, my friend, need a date."

"Here we go," said Hermione, stabbing a piece of scone with a fork. "Harry honestly, Ginny's already given me the speech, I don't need another one from you."

"Look I know, but we just want you to be happy Hermione."

"Maybe my happiness will be different," she said. Harry studied her.

"Well," he said, getting up and hugging her. "Come by the Burrow Sunday. We haven't had you around in so long and everyone's been asking. I think it'll be fun."

That evening she went for her run, taking a long route around the lake. She heard a soft bark and slowed down, turning around to see where it came from. Padfoot was there, wagging his tail slowly and looking at her. "Oh come on then," she said, starting off again, and a few seconds later the big black dog was running to heel beside her. As annoying as he could be, she was glad for the company. Having him there made her feel a little safer, although she would never admit how much the discussion with Harry on recent developments with the Death Eaters had affected her. The black dog was a familiar site on all her runs after that; sometimes Padfoot would even accompany her from Grimmauld and back. But he would never turn into Sirius.

Despite his aggravating need to antagonise her, Hermione thought it was quite nice having another friend in their group who wasn't partnered up. Or under the age of ten. Although she had become so accustomed to the changes children brought to their motley little family she knew how difficult it was for Sirius who was new to everything, including how to deal with being left in the middle of conversations because of child related emergencies. Naturally they gravitated towards one another, and their conversations stretched from the intellectual, the antagonising, the philosophical – another thing she learned about Sirius that surprised her – and often just plain silly.

He would lounge against a wall with her, each of them with a glass of wine in hand. "Is it just me or does Percy strike you as a cross-dresser?" She would pretend to be scandalised for the sake of loyalty, before agreeing it was quite possible. "Do you think he does it in the bedroom, and Audrey dresses up like a bloke?"

Splutter. "Don't put pictures like that in my head!"

"It's not my fault you've a gutter-brain, love."

"Me! You're the one that turns every innocent comment into an innuendo. You're a lewd man Mr. Black." Single-fingered poke to the admittedly well-muscled arm.

"All I said was that whenever Charlie talks about his dragons, it also sounds like he's talking about other blokes co-"

"Sirius."

"Hermione."

"You shouldn't tease him like that you know."

"It makes him smile. Besides, it's fun making Weasley's blush, their cheeks match their hair." He got a punch to the arm for that.

She had to admit that it was nice to be remembered when everything was about couples, marriages and babies. She supposed on some level, for her at least, jealousy was involved. She'd chosen to prioritise her career but she also knew that she hadn't taken much interest or made too much effort dating after Ron and her had ended their short-lived relationship. While Harry and Ginny were positively childhood soul mates, and Ron had grown to be quite comfortable around women, Hermione continued to find it difficult to connect with strangers. Which, considering the utter failure of her few attempts, wasn't so hard to believe. Not that she'd been celibate, but she'd never had a relationship that lasted longer than a few months. While she'd been abroad it'd been easy to forget about it because she was so caught up in her work and fascinating new experiences. It had been easy to forget about so many things actually, she thought. The nightmares had been few and far between. Coming home, as much as she loved her friends, reminded her too much of all the things she would never have.

* * *

**_Sneak Peek Chapter Four._**

_"That's very nice dress, Ms. Granger." His voice, warm and husky beside her ear made her jump. She whipped around, ready to reprimand him. _


	4. Chapter Four: Truth Telling

**Disclaimer: **All canon characters, places, plots and situations from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from this.

**Warnings: **Rated M for language, violence and scenes of a sexual nature in later chapters.

**A/N: **Yay, an early chapter! Thank you so much to everyone who followed and favourited this story, and especially those who've reviewed. I really appreciate the feedback, it's so interesting hearing how people see this story and really motivates me to keep going. I'm still waiting for a beta, so if you see any glaring mistakes please tell me so I can correct them. This chapter is broken into different points of view, and we even get to see some things through Remus' eyes. Thanks for reading.

* * *

**Chapter Four: Truth Telling  
**

oOoOoOo

They were all at the Burrow, having had a lazy Sunday lunch. "Auntie Mione, come watch us play kidditch!" squealed a small voice. Rose was begging, bouncing on her feet, her small palms pressing into Hermione's knees where she sat on the sofa with Tonks and Remus. Her god daughter really was a cute little thing, elfin nose, an explosion of wavy red-gold hair and the most beseeching blue eyes that was Ron all the way through. Feeling a little guilty that she hadn't been around much in the last two months, she allowed herself to be dragged out to the garden.

'Quidditch', in the case of very small children, involved running around with toy brooms between their legs, playing something that more resembled a mish-mash of Muggle volleyball and soccer. It all made about as much sense to her as an actual Quidditch match, but Rose was happy, the sun was shining brightly and the grass felt cool and soft on the soles of her feet. She sank to the ground, watching the kids run around on the 'pitch', a large flat area of grass outside the Burrow where Harry and Ron had played their own games as children. The boys, with George and Bill were playing, and Ginny was off to one side refereeing.

"That's a very nice dress Ms. Granger." His voice, warm and husky in her ear made her jump. She whipped around ready to reprimand him.

"Sirius, go—sh—darn," she finished lamely when she saw the baby in his arms. He gave her a grin that was anything but innocent, and she narrowed her eyes at him as he plonked down beside her, settling the babbling baby between them.

"I didn't know you were into women's clothes, Sirius."

"Nah love, I'm more about getting _into _women's clothes, if you know what I mean."

"Ugh, you're incorrigible," she said, her eyes on the game, though the corner of her mouth twitched.

* * *

Sirius surreptitiously sniffed the air around the woman beside him; peaches and watermelon. He recognised the familiar scents from their shared bathroom. He enjoyed the friendship that had developed between the two of them since Christmas. She was remarkably easy to annoy and he found the banter quite energising.  
For so long after his return, he'd been afraid to change, thinking it would drive his friends away. Instead, he had been welcomed with open arms. It would take time to convince everyone – himself included – after his four month stint of what Hermione called his 'brooding Heathcliffe phase.' She had been right, of course, about Harry and Remus. He was building a new relationship with his godson and best friend, but it was difficult. He hadn't spoken to them in the first place because he'd felt like he was letting them down anyway, that he shouldn't show Harry his vulnerability, that Remus wouldn't understand now he was a father and a husband and almost ten years older than Sirius himself.

After Hermione chewed him out that day after Christmas, he'd lain awake in bed at night, feeling helpless and nursing his wounded pride at the idea of letting her get to him the way she had. Eventually he'd come to the conclusion that she had a point, that he'd been living for the next axe to fall, and it was already taking everything he wanted and might even be able to have, away from him.  
Listening to her was the reason he was sitting here in the sun, surrounded by good people and holding Harry's tiny son. Not to mention annoying her, that was fun too.

"So I've some news," he said, tugging on one of her curls, making her growl and swat at his hand. She turned back to watch Rose, who was doing a funny little victory dance across the field.

"Yes?" she asked eventually, exasperated.

He loved this. She was all delicious like this, with the blood in her cheeks. "I've thought about what you said, and I've decided to become an Auror."  
She swiveled to face him then, her eyes bright with a genuine smile on her face.

"Sirius, that's wonderful! You'll be great. When do you start?"

Was it wrong that the sincerity of her words made him feel both invincible and terrified?

"Week after next. Three months training and then a trial month in the field. They've given me dispensation on the training because of my experience in the Order. We were all pretty much Aurors back then, just didn't have the badge to prove it." Beside him Albus stood up, clutching onto the strap of Hermione's dress. "We-hey!" said Sirius, cheering the baby on as he wobbled on pudgy little feet. He took a shaky step towards Hermione and she squealed, clapping, which made Albus clap.  
She scooped him up before he could fall on his bottom, coo-ing at him for starting to walk, and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. Albus laughed again, babbling at her and grabbing a bunch of honey curls in one fat little fist.

Sirius watched them thoughtfully. He'd never thought he'd want a family of his own, but being surrounded by so many families and children, he was reconsidering. Anyone looking at them might've thought they were one, and there was something that thrilled him about the picture, making him imagine what his family could actually look like. He wondered if he should go on another date with Crissy. He wondered what their children would look like.

Hermione was waving at Rose now. The little girl was jumping up and down trying to get her godmother's attention in that way small children do when they want to be the center of your world. He still couldn't believe that the lanky red-head he'd met years ago as a spotty teenager was grown up and married with children.

"So what happened with you and Ron anyway?" he asked. "I was certain you'd be a Weasley by now." He was curious. In the months they'd been living together he'd only seen Hermione go on one date, a professional Quidditch player she'd gone to school with – Oliver Wood? Right smarmy bastard that one. He was glad she hadn't seem interested in seeing him again since.

Hermione laughed. "Oh this is as close to being a Weasley as I ever want to get," she said. "It was a childhood infatuation, and those rarely last do they?" She cast a glance towards the field where Harry and Ginny stood. "By the time the war was over, we were already becoming different people, although now I'm sure we were never right for one another. It was safe though. It was a good first love to have, all things considered. We're still friends and I'm really happy that he found Eva. They're such a good match, and I adore Rose," she said, smiling fondly at the sight of the little girl.

"What did you mean by 'all things considered"?

She joined Albus in picking at blades of grass. "Well this is probably going to sound terribly conceited, but after the war it's been difficult to know who's interested in me for me, not because I'm a 'war hero' or Harry Potter's best friend." She rolled her eyes, but he noticed that her they had become a little more guarded as she spoke.

"I think I know what you mean. Sometimes I meet women who are into me and then I figure out it's the legend they're after. It pis-_frustrates _me, I mean, I'm _obviously_ a catch but it's hard competing with a mythical figure." He looked wistfully off into the distance.

She snorted. "They've clearly not seen the state you leave the bathroom in, there was nothing magical or mythical about the other day." She was talking about finding a pair of women's underwear in their bathroom, a lacey scrap of fabric she said didn't belong to her, and which he could not for the life of him place either. They'd got in a terrible row about it, with him accusing her of being a jealous prude, and her accusing him of being a disgusting man-whore. It had been ugly and they'd not spoken for two days afterwards, gingerly reuniting over a cup of tea.

"Yeah, sorry about that. You're not a prude, I know I've been…"

"Loose with your affections?"

"I-"

"A scarlet man?" She giggled.

He growled. "I was _going_ to say, I know I've been inconsiderate. Gods you just love taking the mickey with me," he said, putting on a pout.

"Well if that's not the pot calling the kettle… black. Don't laugh. And put that thing away – is that supposed to be attractive? You look like a blow-fish." He sucked his lip in. They both turned to watch the game as he ran a hand absentmindedly over the fine dark hair on the baby's head.

"Well, if it's any consolation, I don't think that's my thing anymore."

"You're becoming a monk? Bit late in life don't you think? And you'll need to shave your hair-"

"Woman! I meant casual hook-ups!" he hissed. She was actually grinning at him like the cat that got the cream and he realised that she was playing him at his own game, the cheeky thing! "What I was saying, is that it's difficult to meet women at clubs who want something more. And quite frankly the ones that seem to make me suspicious."

"Wow, Sirius Black, growing up," she teased. "What's next, joining a book club?"

"Only if it's yours," he replied silkily, intending to throw her, but instead she laughed disbelievingly, making him object.

"Beg your pardon Ms. Granger but what are you implying?"

"I've only ever seen you read Quidditch Magazine," she exclaimed.

"And how do you know I don't secretly have a pile of novels at my bedside?"

She snorted again. He loved that she used a full range of facial expressions and sounds to express herself. It was so much more interesting than women who barely moved their faces in order to remain 'attractive'. His cousin Narcissa came to mind. "I'm wounded!" he said, lifting a hand to his heart.

"You'll live," she said airily. He grinned at her.

"So Harry and Ginny asked me to be godfather to the new baby," he said. It had been a surreal moment. He would never forget how grateful he felt, knowing that he'd get another chance to be a good godfather.

"Really?" said Hermione. "They asked me to be the godmother." They shared delighted smile.

Molly's voice floated out across the field and they turned to see the maternal witch standing at the door with her wand at her throat. The sonorous reached all the way to the other end of the garden. "Who wants tea and cake?"

"Oh gods," Hermione said, suddenly, rushing to get up and snatching Albus to her.

"Wha-" His question was answered when he was nearly bowled over by an ambush of children with no other goal in mind than their next sugar rush. Shouts of disapproval from various parents went completely unheeded. "Vicious little herd of gnomes!" gasped Sirius, righting himself. Following a movement in the corner of his eye, he saw an actual garden gnome flipping him the bird before popping back into the shrubbery. Hermione was laughing, passing Albus back to him as she dusted bits of grass from her dress.

"Oh-" She leaned closer and picked a few leaves out of his hair. From where he was sitting, the sun was behind her and he had a perfect view of the silhouette of her legs and hips through the fabric. "Coming for tea?" she asked, and his eyes snapped back up to hers but she was still picking at her dress. Her eyes met his with a smile. "See you inside," she said, and he nodded, watching her head off towards the house.

* * *

"I don't know what you said to him Hermione, but he's already miles better than he was in December," Remus was saying. Hermione was comfortably sunk into a cushy couch, joined by Remus, Tonks and a very nice bottle of wine. Around the lounge adults and children were resting languidly or playing around. Remus nodded towards the kitchen where Sirius could be seen holding Albus on his hip and talking animatedly to Mrs. Weasley. The older woman was beaming with joy at having another person to mother and fuss over. And she certainly had, for the Animagus had filled out well, exercise and good eating transforming him into what Hermione could easily imagined he looked like as a young wizard. His t-shirt stretched slightly across a wide, muscular chest, his bicep flexing appealing as his forearm supported the baby's bottom. When he glanced her way for the tiniest moment, her stomach flipped.

"Hermione?" asked Tonks.

"Oh yes, gods, sorry," said Hermione, flustered. Her friends were both looking at her with twin expressions of amusement. "What did you say?"

"We were just wondering what you'd said to Sirius. He won't say."

"Ah well, just that he had choices, I suppose," she said, unwilling to give any more information if Sirius himself had decided not to. Her cheeks still felt flushed. Gods, at the risk of sounding crass even in her own head, she obviously needed to get laid if she'd gotten to the point of staring at her best friend's godfather like he was a piece of meat.

* * *

"I'm going ouuuutttt," he sang loudly, thumping through the living room where Hermione was curled up on the sofa, book in hand.

"Circe, can't you speak like a normal person," she asked, rubbing her ears. He was too cheery about actually having a boys night, to take her very seriously. Instead he grabbed a bottle of Firewhiskey from the kitchen, thumping back through the lounge, singing very loudly, an extremely inappropriate Irish bar song. "Sirius!" she shrieked, annoyed to be disturbed, but he just sang louder. "Argh!" He fairly skipped past her couch, stopping only to ruffle her hair violently and plant a wet smooch on her forehead, which she immediately objected to, wiping her skin frantically. He cackled on his way out the room, just missing the book she'd hurled at him by inches. Wide-eyed, he stopped in his tracks, slowly turning around.  
"Hermione Granger, you just threw a book," he said, with mock shock. Hers was real, he could tell by the way her eyes grew larger, and she rushed over to the book. "Poor book," he said sorrowfully. She whimpered.

"Oh god oh god," she was muttering, checking the book for damage. He took the opportunity to sneak out the front door with Remus before she had a chance to blame him for anything.

They popped out of thin air at an apparition point near Harry's place, Remus still shaking his head. "Why do you have to irritate her so?" he asked his friend. Sirius just grinned.

"Cause it's fun!" Remus couldn't but smile. It'd been wonderful seeing his friend come out of his shell. He was different now, but it seemed some things would never change. Remus didn't care; it was worth the return of Sirius' childlike enthusiasm and cheeky sense of humour, bringing with it a light to his grey-blue eyes that had been missing before.

"And why the hell do you have a bottle of Firewhiskey in your hand, we're going to a pub!"

"No, we're going to Harry's first and everyone else is meeting us there and we're flooing to the pub," Sirius said slowly, as if Remus was a bit slow himself. "What are we supposed to do at Harry's while we wait?" he said. About three shots each and an hour later, an irate Ginny shooed them all through the Floo. The Three Broomsticks was noisy, Saturday night being one of its busiest. They managed to get a booth and Remus, the most sober thanks to his werewolf's metabolism, waved hello to Madame Rosmerta, ordering over a selection of drinks for the boys. There was Harry, Ron, George, Bill, Sirius and himself. It was a long overdue outing for them. Charlie was back in Romania and Percy was… Percy.

The hours passed and the Butterbeer, Firewhiskeys and other drinks flowed abundantly. It was a typical lads night, loose talk about women (accompanied by desperate demands that none of it reach their wives, lest they be murdered in their sleep), Quidditch, kids and current news. It was the last that turned the conversation to the war. It wasn't solemn in the least, but Remus noticed the way Sirius grew quieter and more withdrawn with every story of hurt and loss accrued. And the quieter he got, the more often he had a glass to his lips. Eventually they stumbled into Grimmauld through the Floo, Sirius' dragging feet pulling ash out onto the carpet in a smear. He was already lifting the bottle to his mouth.

"Right, that's enough for you I think," said Remus, reaching for the bottle of Firewhiskey.

"Nooo, my precioussss." Sirius made a grab for the bottle but his blurry vision let him down.

"C'mon mate, let's get you laying down," said Remus, propping Sirius up with an arm around his side.

"Lucinda, oh Lucinda! I love you!" moaned the black-haired Marauder, confusing the hell out of Remus.

"Who in the blazes is Lucinda?" he asked.

"S'my whiskey…" mumbled Sirius, trailing off.

"You named your bottle of Firewhiskey?" said Remus incredulously, dragging Sirius onto the couch. "What am I saying, of course you did."

Sirius clutched at his shirt, pulling on a few chest hairs at the same time, making Remus wince. "Ow ow," he said, trying to untangle his friend's ridiculously strong grip from him. "What is it Pads?" he asked. Sirius wavered on the spot.

"S'my fault."

"What is?"

"George's ear. Fred gone. So much I didn't- I should've been there, I should've-"

"Nah mate, don't do this to yourself, it wasn't your fault," said Remus, patting Pads on the shoulder. The Animagus continued to whine about the myriad ways in which he was an absolute failure at life. Loudly. Remus startled as Hermione stomped into the room, her hair a fright, wearing a hastily tied red flannel gown. She had a hard look on her face; it was somewhere in the vicinity of three in the morning.

"No," she was saying in a decisive, take-no-prisoners tone. "You're doing it wrong. Like this," she said, bending so she was hovering above Sirius to grab his attention.  
"You," she said, "are a grade A idiot. Your ego is even bigger than I thought, if you are seriously trying to take credit for shit that happened during the war." Remus leaned back, wide-eyed.

"But-" said Sirius, his eyes rolling back in his head. Godric, he really was plastered.

"No. No buts. You're going to be an Auror. You have a goddaughter on the way. You have friends and family who are thrilled to have you here. Stop being a self-obsessed, masochistic idiot, and learn to appreciate what you've got."

"Whyyougotta be sucha bitch to me," moaned the drunkard. Hermione gasped, and leaned forward.

"Oh you haven't seen bitch yet, dear." She pulled out her wand.

"Hermione, really-" said Remus.

"You want to baby him, Remus? You want to let him sulk and get all twisted up in this bullshit? Go ahead. See what good that does him."

"We've all got demons Hermione, you ought to know that," he said quietly. She stilled at that, sighing, and tucked her wand back into her waistband.

"Yes Remus, we all do. The difference is that this one over here is wallowing. The rest of us have had to get on with it pretty quickly," she said.

Remus thought of her nightmares. At this very moment he could see dried tear tracks on her cheeks. She looked exhausted. "Maybe that's not the best way to deal with things either," said Remus, giving her a pointed look. She'd been about two seconds away from slapping Sirius across the face.

"Gods Remus, this is not about me!" yelled Hermione, jabbing a finger in Sirius' direction. "What about Teddy? You want him to see this, to hear this?"

"I love Teddy," mumbled Sirius.

"If you love Teddy, then why are you behaving like you won't be here tomorrow, you drama queen?" she bit out. Sirius was looking up at her through slitted eyes.

"Yer pretty," he slurred. She rolled her eyes, growling, and shot Remus a look.

"Sort him out," she said. "If you want him to get better, sort him out." She turned on her heel and stormed back up the stairs. Remus looked down when he felt a tug on his hand.

"She's scary Moony. Canna 'ave Lucy back?"

"Nah mate. No Lucy. Go to sleep." Just like he remembered Sirius as young teenagers, his friend was suddenly out like a light.

He'd been about to go to bed, but Remus settled onto a nearby couch instead, thinking things over. Hermione had made several good points. He just wasn't sure telling Pads to get over it was going to do any of them any good. Remus knew better than most people, what could happen when you pretended parts of who you are didn't exist.

* * *

_**Sneak Peak Chapter Five.**_

_She felt a single bead of sweat roll down her forehead, tickling her, and she fought the urge to wipe it away. Not when she was so, so close._


	5. Chapter Five: Behold My Reflection

**Disclaimer: **All canon characters, places, plots and situations from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from this.

**Warnings: **Rated M for language, violence and scenes of a sexual nature in later chapters.  
**Warnings for this chapter:** Reference to violence, trauma.

**A/N: **So I've had a playlist of music I've been building and listening to since I got the idea for this story several months ago. I'm wary about sharing music, pics that inspire me because I don't want to spoil anyone's personal read of the story, but if you would like to see the playlist I'll be posting it up on my profile with reference to which chapters each song spoke to. Music is a big part of the HP universe for me. I remember I was listening to Stars (In Our Bedroom After The War) and Bloc Party (A Weekend In The City) when I read Deathly Hallows and any time I hear tracks off those albums I get the shivers. Anyone else have music they specifically associate with the HP stories? Oh, last thing. This chapter is pretty much emo-ville. Don't hate me. *runs away*

* * *

**Chapter Five: Behold My Reflection  
**

oOoOoOo

The first morning he voluntarily stepped into the Ministry, Sirius was as nervous as a house elf at Malfoy Manor. Although his name had technically been cleared now for six years, it was still fresh to him, the last times he had been in this place before the night of the Veil and the day of his retrieval, both of which had been too quick and dreamlike to count. No, what he remembered most vividly was being dragged before Ministry officials in shackles, screaming his innocence and grief when he'd already been pronounced guilty for the death of his friends anyway. He'd been pulled kicking and screaming from the room. Even now, knowing that the filthy rat bastard Wormtail was gone, killed by the hand of the same lord he'd betrayed them all for, his own hands still itched for blood. He still dreamed about it. He would never be able to have his revenge on Wormtail, but joining the Aurors meant he could still make up for the past. Which is why he was also nervous because he was running late. He'd never been a morning person, and thirteen plus years without a job left him completely unprepared for the early morning schedule.

Walking in a free wizard, being greeted warmly by the recruitment Auror who took them on a brief tour of the Ministry, bumping shoulders with fellow trainees as though he actually had a right to be there was both lucky and almost too good to be true. When the recruitment Auror pointed down a dark passage to the Department of Mysteries, he averted his eyes. If anyone knowing his story had seen him then, they would probably assume he'd turned away so as not to be reminded of the night he had 'died'. This wasn't true, however. He turned away because he knew Hermione was just beyond that black door somewhere, doing… Unspeakable things and hating him. He wasn't sure what he'd done, only that he'd either said or done – actually, probably both – to upset her, and Remus had warned him to keep his distance for a bit. She'd gone for a run the day before and he'd watched her leave from a window. He'd taken up going with her as Padfoot because he didn't like the idea of her being alone in a deserted area. He knew if she knew this she'd be even more likely to hex his gonads off. He'd worried nevertheless, feeling deflated and chided despite not having actually heard her tirade.

When they arrived at last to the Auror Department and he spotted Harry in his Lead Auror robes, his heart lifted a little. Maybe life could be better on the other side of Wizarding Law? Harry wore a serious, professional look, but he smiled widely when the trainees arrived. "Hello everyone," said Harry, glancing momentarily at Sirius. "This is the Auror Department, let me show you around and tell you a little bit about what goes on here and how we work," said the Boy-Who-Lived, and as Sirius watched his godson command silence and awe so effortlessly, he was filled with bittersweet pride for the man James' son had become. Sirius couldn't help comparing the techniques and procedures Harry was talking about to what had happened when he'd been arrested. He was confused, not really understanding what he was feeling, it kept changing. It felt like there was a hand twisting his stomach.

"So we welcome you all to the British Auror Training Programme, and trust you will all give us your very best. I hope to see you all back when practical training starts in two weeks, and more importantly at your graduation six months from now," he finished. Sirius knew he'd be done long before then. His wand hand was itching for practicals. Two weeks of study and tests would probably do his head in. At least when he was working with his wand he didn't need to think about anything else but the goal.

That was the sum of their orientation, and after they'd been dismissed, Sirius wandered over to the Ministry canteen. It was lunch-time and Harry had asked Sirius to stick around. He tapped a foot, looking around, absorbing the smells and sounds and sights of what he thinked he hoped was soon to be his own workplace. He didn't miss the few looks that were being sent his way. He wondered if it was his reputation as a playboy or a deranged murderer that they were whispering about. The trickles of people entering the canteen increased, and Sirius craned to see if Harry was about. He noticed the unruly black hair and the flash of glasses and smiled, before noticing that Harry wasn't alone.

It was about the same time she'd noticed him, clearly not expecting him by the slight widening of her eyes. It seemed like nanoseconds before they were upon him. Harry was looking between them quizzically. Hermione opened and closed her mouth twice before Sirius decided to put her out of her misery.  
"Look love," he said, "I've just had a rollercoaster of a day and I can't really deal with you telling me off right now, okay? Whatever I've done, you can get on my case tomorrow alright? Sorry Harry but if it's okay we can meet for lunch another day." Before either of them could say anything more, he strode steadily through the crowd and walked through the first Floo he could see.

* * *

Hermione cricked her neck and let out a steady, long breath from her lips. She was in a secluded part of the park, on the grass, her feet bare and her hair loosed. She'd cast all the necessary charms for privacy and secrecy, and she was dressed in simple cotton clothing. She had access to fresh water. She did everything she was supposed to do, and it still wasn't bloody working. She wanted to yell, throw something – anything to release her frustration and unease, but she forced herself to focus.

Her object of hatred was a peanut butter sandwich she had packed for lunch. She was trying to call it to her using wandless magic, but although she had meditated for an hour before the attempt, following everything she'd learned, she couldn't even get a crumb to come her way. Taking a deep breath and pushing all her thoughts away, she aimed for a blank mind, then stretched out her wand hand, and focused. A solid minute went by before she felt the tingling down her arm, the telltale trickle of magic, and she grinned. She felt a single bead of sweat roll down her forehead, tickling her, and she fought the urge to wipe it away. Not when she was so, so close. The sandwich was moving! It was creeping along the ground towards her! No, wait. It was creeping _away_ from her, courtesy of a grey squirrel. Her shoulders slumped in defeat as she watched the little creature make off with her lunch.

This should've been easy, she had done it before. It was supposed to be the most simple thing she was going to practice today, and it had stumped her. And the embarrassing part was that it wasn't even that impressive, it was wandless magic she was already supposed to be able to do, like lighting a fire. Small fry. She had planned on warming up to a wandless Auguamenti _at least. _"Argh!" She picked up her wand and set the nearest shrub on fire. She was losing it. That's what it was, she was losing her mind. Was this a side-effect of playing with wandless magic? Perhaps she should add this to the notes. She packed up her things and started the long walk home. She just needed some time to think. As she passed her usual running path, she thought of Padfoot with a pang. It was now three days since she'd seen Sirius at the Ministry, and it seemed like he was still avoiding her, in either form. She knew he was spending half-days at the Ministry and studying at home, but she never saw him in the mornings or the evenings when she arrived from work. A few times she'd been in bed when she'd heard his bedroom door open or close, and she'd felt torn between letting him have the space he so clearly desired or confronting him.

She knew it as sure as anything, that somehow, the reason she'd failed at training was because of things with Sirius. Tonight. She would tell him tonight. It made her feel sick, but she would. Her thoughts were interrupted by the flutter of wings and she looked up; a snowy white owl was hovering with a roll of parchment. Luckily she had some crackers with her; the owl wasn't particularly impressed, but neither did it nip her. She unrolled the paper, her heart quickening at the words written there.

_Meeting, HQ tonight. Urgent. All members to be present. HP_

* * *

_**Three days earlier**. _

_"__What the hell was that?" asked Harry, watching Sirius disappear into the crowd. He turned to Hermione. "Well?" He watched her gape for a second longer before she sunk into a chair. He pulled out the chair beside her, sitting down._

_"I'm a horrible person," she said, sniffling suspiciously. _

_Harry raised his eyebrows. "Ok, come with me," he said, and they headed towards his office. He closed the door behind them. When he turned back to her she had her hands pressed to her eyes. "Oh Hermione." He joined her sitting on his desk and pulled her close to his side._  
_"You know you're my best friend, right?" he said. She nodded, swiping at her cheeks. "Good. Then you know I'm not going anywhere." She gave a large hiccup at that, her lower lip trembling, and for a moment he thought she was going to burst into tears properly. When she didn't, he breathed a sigh of relief._

_"__I was really awful to Sirius the other night when he came home drunk from your guys' night out. And now he hates me." Harry thought for a moment before speaking._

_"Firstly, I doubt Sirius hates you." She gave him a disbelieving look. "Oh he's upset about something, I'm not saying he isn't. But hate? Hermione, Sirius couldn't hate you, he cares about you. You've been a real friend to him. Whatever it is that's happened, whatever it is you've done, it can't be all that bad. It takes a lot to destroy Sirius' loyalty," he said. "But I have to say, you guys squabble all the time and I haven't seen anything like this before. What happened?" _

_"__He came home drunk and complaining and I was so tired Harry, I'd just fallen asleep and it was a bad one." He rubbed her back, encouraging her on. "I heard him and I just got so mad, you know? I just-" Tears leaked down her cheeks anew, and Harry sighed. He lifted a corner of his robe and used it to dab her tears away.  
She laughed shakily. "You know you could have conjured a tissue, right?" she said. He smiled at her and was rewarded with a watery smile back. She took a fortifying breath. "Harry I've been such a hypocrite. I really do believe that Sirius needs us all to be a little tough with him, but I'd be lying if I said that's all I was doing. The truth is, it was more about me and my issues than his." She picked at a fingernail. _

_"__Hermione, you need to tell him," said Harry, chasing her eyes when she turned her face away. "None of us have said anything, ok? It's yours to tell and I think you should. I know it hurts, but you can't hide forever Hermione. Not now. Not with everything that's happening."_

_"I know," she said quietly. _

* * *

After the war the Order had been officially 'disbanded'. Unofficially, whoever was available would meet at Grimmauld once every month or so. The peace in the years after the war had lulled them into a sense of complacency and meetings would usually turn into a social gathering with a few updates from Tonks and Harry if there was any relevant Auror activity they could share. This evening was different. Everyone was there; even Severus Snape, who still looked as though he had been forced to swallow a slug at wandpoint. Faces were grim – even George Weasley sported a serious look.

Harry was holding court, counting on his fingers. "Two muggles in Edgware, dead without a mark on them. We got an Auror into the morgue to check it out. Definitely Avada. And one body in Stratford, also muggle," said the green-eyed man. Sirius noticed him glance at the witch across the room. "But this one had been ripped apart by what the Muggle news is calling an unidentified wild animal." Sirius flicked his eyes to Hermione; the blood had rushed out of her cheeks.

"Officially the Auror Department hasn't confirmed anything, so it's not public yet, but we're pretty sure we're looking at two of Voldemort's men", said Tonks. "Yaxley and Fenrir Greyback – neither of them were found after the war. We've literally just confirmed it." Everyone began talking at once.

"What I was going to say", said Harry loudly, over the chatter, "is that we have reason to believe these two criminals in particular have grudges against the Order. The fact that these killings have taken place so close to London is a concern." Sirius looked around; Hermione was gone. Someone, maybe Bill, shouted out a question to Harry, and Sirius took the opportunity to slip out of the room.

He found her in the library. She was sitting on her favourite sofa by the fire, her legs curled under her, her arms crossed tightly, staring sightlessly into the flames. She looked exhausted, and for the first time Sirius felt his stomach turn at the possibilities. "Hermione", he said softly, not wanting to frighten her, but when she didn't tell him to leave and didn't turn to hide her tears, he sat down beside her. And as though it were the most natural thing, she turned towards him and buried her face against his chest. He gathered her into his arms, wondering why it was that his own heart felt like it was breaking when he saw her cry.

* * *

Eventually she calmed down, but it was a good thirty minutes before she would speak. During that time Remus, Harry and Ginny all poked their heads in, but he would just shake his head.  
"I'm so stupid." Those were the first words she said, and he frowned. Before he could formulate a response, she continued. "I let my guard down. I should have known better. Six years is nothing. War isn't something that happens neatly, in a vacuum." She was still curled up against his side, with his arm around her. One of her hands was bunched in his t-shirt and there was a wet patch where most of her tears had soaked through the fabric.

"It was building for years. We fought a war that started before we were born. I've been so naïve." She laughed, a bitter sound. "I've known, I've always known. We didn't get all of them after the battle. It was just so _good_ to push it down. But it's been impossible since I've been back. The nightmares are awful." Her voice tapered off. "Evil doesn't take vacations." He hummed in agreement.

"I've got scars," she said absentmindedly, almost as though he wasn't even in the room and she was talking to herself. Intuitively, he decided to remain silent, let her talk. "There's one from here to here." She drew a line from her left hip to the crease where her torso met her thigh. "Anton Dolohov, a knife on the day of the final battle. I was just lucky it the knife wasn't cursed. It took a long time to heal anyway. They all did. It's not about the scars though," she said, scratching at her arm. He looked down but it was all smooth skin. "It's up here," she said, tapping against her temple with one finger. A silence fell upon her, and he forced himself to wait a few minutes, to not be his pushy self. Eventually he asked her.

"Hermione, what are your nightmares about?" Her body sagged, with relief that he'd asked or with grief, he couldn't tell. And then she told him.

It always went the same. She was seventeen again, lying on the marble floor at Malfoy Manor, her body thin and weak from months of living on the run. They'd been snatched. Harry and Ron were taken to the cellars below, and she could hear them calling her name as she was dragged in the opposite direction. Her nightmares transported her back to those moments, the mad cackling of Bellatrix Lestrange, the woman's manic fury frightening, and the searing pain as that filigreed dagger sliced into her skin. Her own screams of agony as the Cruciatus Curse coursed through her body again and again until she could barely make a sound, her throat was so raw. Her stomach had turned sickly with the deep surety that she had failed Harry, would never have a chance to tell Ron how she felt, or see her parents again. The tears that leaked out of her eyes and onto the cold floor, without effort.  
And then, the sight of Greyback's cruel, twisted face grinning with glee, him licking his lips when Bellatrix had grown bored of her. "It's all yours to do with as you wish." The icy realisation that she would probably be violated and then killed. If it hadn't been for sweet, loyal Dobby who gave his life to protect theirs… The words poured out of her, her darkest secret.

"Sometimes I think it might've been better if I died that night," she whispered, the words and her voice sending a cold shiver up his spine. "If I'd died, then he wouldn't have done it. He wouldn't have been angry, he wouldn't have gone to them." The sightless glaze of her eyes told him she was remembering, seeing a different time and place. "I found them. On the living room floor. Their blood was mixed up, soaked through the carpet. I used to lie on that carpet with them when I was a child, you know. We used to build with Lego, watch TV, tell stories and secrets. Mum and I used to lie in front of the fire with hot chocolate." She smiled a little, but it was gone just as quickly. "I was too late. They died because of me. And he's still out there. And I know. I know he's back for me." He rubbed hand up and down her arm. She was ice cold so he pulled her closer. "I'm sorry Sirius," she whispered.

"It's okay love," he said, though he didn't know what she was apologising for. He was still trying to figure out what to say, if anything, when he realised she'd fallen asleep. Carefully, he carried her upstairs to her bedroom, laying her on the bed and pulling off her shoes. Harry came in behind him; the house was quiet beside, everyone having left earlier. His godson nodded at him, and gave him a pat on the arm before moving to his friend, pulling a blanket from a cupboard and covering her gently with it. He sat beside her, stroking her forehead with just the tips of his fingers. It was clear she'd been crying, but her face looked so peaceful now.

Sirius found he'd made his way to his own bedroom somehow. He lay in his bed, ruminating over everything he'd learned in between her sobs. The palpable mixture of grief, anger, guilt and fear she expressed was so similar to his own, and he wondered how he ever could have been so blind to think he was alone when even the woman who had helped him save himself, knew what it was to drown.

* * *

_**Sneak Peak Chapter Six.**  
__  
"Honestly all I remember is screaming," said Sirius, making a motion around his head. "And hair."_


	6. Chapter Six: In The Shade

**Disclaimer: **All canon characters, places, plots and situations from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from this.

**Warnings: **Rated M for language, violence and scenes of a sexual nature in later chapters.

**A/N:** Thank you to **moreremusplease **who pointed out an error on my part in the last chapter. In Sirius' memory I had Remus and Peter at his 'trial', which was not a deliberate change on my part to canon. Obviously Peter would be on the lam at the time and assumed to be dead, so it was incorrect. This is what happens when I write at three am. It's been changed. Thank you also to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I thought I'd lost you all on it. Are the chapters too long?  
Anyway, here's a chapter I think you'll all enjoy after the weight of the previous one ;)

* * *

**Chapter Six: In The Shade  
**

oOoOoOo

Her eyes refused to open, and it took her a few minutes of fluttering before they did. The light in the room was too dim for it to be any time past five am. She turned her head to the side, seeing Harry fast asleep beside her, his glasses on and askew. He still looked so much like the scrawny little wizard she'd met so long ago, she thought affectionately. "Harry?" She shook his shoulder gently.

"Wha-what?" he said, jerking awake, completely disorientated. He took his glasses off and massaged the bridge of his nose before putting them back on. There was a line across one side of his face from where he'd slept on the frame.

"Why are you here?" she said. "Where's Gin?"

"I sent her a patronus last night, told her I was staying here with you for a bit. Guess I fell asleep," he said, yawning and stretching. "I should probably get home, if I'm not there before work she'll be worried. You alright?"

She nodded. "I think so." They sat in silence for a while longer, both waking up properly.

"Hermione, I'm worried about you, you were pretty shaken last night. You know we've been tracking fugitives from the moment the war ended, the only difference is that they've been spotted closer to London. We're not even sure exactly what that means. It's not just Greyback. You can't let him control your life like that."

Hermione cricked her neck. "I know. I think I'm just really stressed out at the moment Harry. Work's been draining, there's all this activity, the nightmares, Sirius and I being out of sorts… I really think I just needed a good cry." With the window behind him it was difficult to see the expression on his face, but she could hear the disappointment in his voice at her excuses.

"You keep too much bottled up Hermione. Even right now, after last night, you're still hiding. You need to start trusting your friends."

"I do trust you, Harry," she said. "That's kind of the problem. I don't want anyone else to die for me," she said softly. He tilted his head with a sigh, taking her hand.

"Hermione you can't force people not to care about you. Isn't that what you told me when I wanted you and Ron to stay behind while I went hunting for horcruxes? I can't imagine we would've won without you, Hermione. Your brains and for me, your heart. You're like a sister to me and it hurts to see these walls you've put up because they don't actually change the way people feel about you, they just make you lonely and miserable." She looked away. He got off the bed, crouching and feeling around in the darkness under the bed for one of his shoes. Hermione sat up, noticing that she was still in her clothes from the previous day, and sleeping under a loose blanket on top of her bedding.

"Oh gods," she said with a groan, remembering snippets from the night before. "Sirius. He must be horrified, I cried all over him last night and I haven't even apologised for the other night."

Harry's head popped into sight. "Sirius sat with you for almost three hours last night. A few of us came to check on you and he could have left but he didn't. You fell asleep and he carried you here. I don't think he's mad at you at all. Aha!" He slipped the missing shoe on and leaned over to give her a kiss on the forehead before going to the door. "Talk to him," he pressed, before leaving and quietly shutting the door behind him.

Awake and with a couple of hours to kill, she decided to have a nice long bath. Lying in the hot water soothed her aches and pains and when she got out, she felt a bit better. She sent a patronus to work to let them know she was taking the day off. Although it had seemed like a poor cover-up, what she'd said to Harry about work being stressful was also true. Wandless magic, when used how she was attempting to use it, was literally magically draining. The greater her attempt or usage, the longer the recuperation time. That, paired with long hours of research, the lack of decent sleep and various other troubles was taking its toll on her.  
As she wandered down to the kitchen she heard movements and knew it would be Sirius. She took a deep breath. _Just face it Hermione. Just get it over with. _

"Hi," she said, somewhat shyly.

He was standing at the coffee machine and turned to face her when he heard her voice. "You're home? I thought you'd all gone to work by now."

"I took the day off… I need to pull myself together," she said. _May as well get to it._

"Coffee?" he said, holding a cup out to her. There was a softness in his eyes that disarmed her entirely.

They both leaned at the breakfast bar and Hermione smiled wryly to herself, thinking about the first time they'd both been in this position and how things had flipped. Clearly it was on his mind as well, because when she apologised 'for last night', he told her not to. "Consider it a kindness returned," he said.

"And what I wanted to say to you yesterday before all that happened was, I'm sorry for screeching at you on Saturday night. I same some unpleasant things."

"Honestly all I remember is screaming," said Sirius, making a motion around his head. "And hair." There was the hint of a smirk with that last part, she realised, and felt a flash of annoyance. "Why are you apologising anyway? I probably deserved it," he added.

"Well… you avoided me for days after. I thought I'd upset you."

"Gods no, love! Remus told me it would be a good idea to stay out of your way for a bit. And then when I saw you at the Ministry, the way you couldn't look at me." He hesitated. "I don't like feeling like I've let you down," he said so quietly she strained to hear it.

"What!" she said, and his head lifted up. "Sirius I couldn't look at you because I felt so ashamed of my own behaviour. And even more so after tonight. I've been a bit of a hypocrite."

"Really?" he said. "I hadn't noticed." When she realised what he'd said, she laughed.

"Well this is turning out to be some warped kind of déjà vu."

"Hermione, you gave me a much-needed kick up the arse – though I'll deny every word if you tell anyone I said this. The thing is, I don't think I'd be doing as well as I am now if it wasn't for you. I… I can't say that I'm always winning, but… even a second of freedom is worth more than a lifetime of bondage," he said.

"James Frey?" she asked, surprised. His smile was small but genuine.

"I need to ask you something though. Why are you hiding it Hermione?" he asked frankly.

"Why did you hide yours?" she challenged.

"That's different."

"Maybe I'm not angry or bitter Sirius, but I have my reasons. Everyone's got their own stuff to deal with. Most everyone close to me and in the Order know about it, the same as I know about some of their tough experiences. It's been six years and we tend not to talk about things unless they come up naturally. And besides I need to be strong," she said firmly. I need to take care of myself."

He frowned. "You've got so many people around you-"

"I need to not be afraid, Sirius, for my sake and theirs. My parents would have died for me, and they did. I don't want that to happen again and not because I couldn't get my shit together. We don't even know if Greyback is really heading here or if it has anything to do with me, not for sure. It makes absolutely no sense for me to be afraid. I've dealt with much worse than a single psychopathic werewolf, and I'm not a teenager any more, I should be prepared to deal with any situation that comes up. I know it's hard to understand. It's just what I need," she said, plaintively.

_Trauma is not rational. Can you be prepared if you're that compromised? _He wondered. She looked up at him from under dark eyelashes, wary, as though she was expecting another argument and was very tired.  
He just nodded slowly. "Okay, so you've been tired and overworked and you were just overwhelmed last night."

"Yes," she said, feeling an unnamed, unspoken agreement pass between them.

"Well," he said, pushing off the counter. "If you want to make it up to me for getting my shirt all snotty, you can help me get up in the mornings." Her mouth fell open slightly. He continued. "I've got some papers next week and then after that it'll be regular work hours… It's going to be a pain in the arse getting up on time-"

"I did not 'snot' on your shirt!"

"Uh uh uh, don't make me get the evidence," he said, laughing at her stubborn pout.

"Ugh, you're an overgrown child! Are you ever going to stop antagonising me?" she asked.

He barked a laugh. "Uh, firstly, I have it on good record and testimony that I am definitely not a child," he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. She rolled her eyes. "And hell no sweetheart, I like that face you make way too much."

"What face?!" He scrunched up his face, looking like he'd sucked on a lemon.

"Sirius Black, I do not make that face!"

"You're doing it right now." He grinned. She huffed, her cheeks getting a slight pink tinge. They had a little standoff with their eyes.

"Ok, well I'll help you get up in the mornings," she said. "And, thank you... for everything" she said softly. She went to peck his cheek but something went completely wrong and her lips landed against the side of his neck instead. She pulled away immediately, mortified. "Oh goodness, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" she babbled apologies and reasons until she realised he was laughing at her. She felt the blood rush hard into her cheeks again, and he took pity on her, pulling her into a hug that took her by surprise. Her heart thumped hard, and she felt lightheaded. Gods, he smelled good. She felt desire pool suddenly in her stomach and pulled away quickly.

At least buy me dinner first, witch," he joked, chuckling harder when she made a frustrated, embarrassed sound and stomped out of the kitchen. He was still snickering when she took the stairs.

* * *

There was a time when the world had been Sirius Black's proverbial oyster. He was young but had come of age, and into an inheritance from an uncle that he could live off for two lifetimes. He was also an active member of the Order of The Phoenix, which was about as close as you could get to being an Auror. He was good-looking with aristocratic features he tempered with long hair and facial hair. He oozed a debauched kind of playfulness towards life. Witches really had flocked to him; that was one part of The Legend of Sirius Black that was actually true. Aside from the impending war, life was good for twenty-one year old him. He had good friends, James and Lilly had asked him to be godfather to the child in her belly – Harry, they were going to call him – and of course, he had his motorbike.

Comparatively, joining the British Aurorship at the age of thirty-seven when some of your fellow trainees were so fresh out of school they were still battling adolescent acne, was neither glamorous nor particularly enjoyable. He was in two minds about working with Harry, since his godson also happened to be his boss. The boy whose nappies he had changed. He was relieved when the test weeks finally passed and physical training began. It was demanding and he often went home exhausted and sporting a new injury. Still, for the first time in his life he felt like he had a plan and a purpose, and it was good to be a part of the team instead of running from them.

Today they'd dueled for hours, and he was glad when they were sent home on a half day. He could do with a kip, he thought, heading to meet Harry for lunch first. He'd eventually adjusted to the hours, though getting up early would probably never suit him. Thankfully Hermione helped him get into a routine. He grinned to himself, remembering the morning of his first day in training, when she'd barged into his room at six-thirty, went straight over to his window and whipped the curtains open, only to turn to him and find him lying wrapped up in the dark high-count sheets, his bare chest and a great deal of leg on display. She'd flushed a pretty shade of pink and he'd grinned salaciously, stretching languidly. She'd hit him in the face with one of his own balled-up t-shirts.

"Hey!"

"You're shameless," she called out as she left his room.

"You like it," he'd called after her. Maybe waking up early wouldn't be all that bad after all.

"You're so spoiled," Harry was laughing. They'd forgone the Ministry canteen for a little Muggle café nearby.

"She's sadistic about it! And it's an ungodly hour," complained Sirius.

"Well that's what you get for asking Hermione, I could have warned you. She's had _years _practice with Ron and me. Honestly, if it wasn't for her I think the two of us would've missed all our morning classes through forth and fifth year."

"I missed so much, Harry," said said his godfather.

"You're here now," said Harry firmly. "That's all that matters. Oh that reminds me, can you babysit for us week after next?"

"Yep, no problem."

"Remus and Tonks were talking about dropping Teddy off at our place as well, if it's not too much to ask?"

"That's fine, I'll bring him with me when I Floo to yours. Do you have any tapes?"

"Tapes?"

"You know, movies."

Harry laughed. "Nobody uses VHS anymore Sirius, it's all about DVDs now."

Sirius looked bewildered and a little put out. "You mean I bought all those tapes years ago for nothing?"

"Why'd you buy them anyway?"

"Your mum and dad had a TV, we used to go over and watch them there. But wait, nobody uses them anymore?"

"Nope, sorry."

"Fuck, I tell you what though mate, it's all a bit surreal sometimes. He looked around them. I mean, I saw lots after I broke out, but it was different, you know. Was a little mad back then," he said, tapping his temple. "And it's different as Pads."

"Yeah, it must be wild. What did you think about the reno the guys did at Grimmauld?"

"The electricity? Haven't really thought of it much. Come to think of it, I don't think we use it anywhere besides the kitchen." Harry grinned. He'd suddenly decided what to get Sirius for his birthday.

"How's things at home?" asked Sirius. "My boys all good? Haven't seen them for a while," he said. "How's my god-daughter doing?"

"You saw the boys last week," laughed Harry, but Sirius' possessiveness towards his children pleased him. "Ginny's four months along now, we saw the MediWitch last week, she said everything was going along well. The morning sickness is over, thank gods." He leaned closer to Sirius. "The second trimester," he said grinning. When Sirius looked confused, he explained.

"Huh," said Sirius. "That explains so much about the state your dad was in during Lily's- why are you cringing like that, did you think you were immaculately conceived?"

"Well I am the saviour," joked Harry. When Sirius blanked he had to explain that too. He looked at his watch. "I better be getting back to the office."

"I'll walk with you, take the Floo home."

When Sirius got home a few minutes later, the house was unusually quiet. Over the last few weeks the Order had been meeting regularly. As Grimmauld was still their headquarters and the safest meeting place in general, the number of people present in the house at any given time had increased. It wasn't uncommon for the house's inhabitants to enter a shared living space only to find it occupied with any number of Order members pow-wowing over some matter. Although the Aurors were officially tracking war criminals, it was by no means a straightforward process and everyone was doing their bit, discretely. "After all, these people have been in hiding for six years with not much more than a peep here and there," Harry had said. "Clearly they know how to resist arrest, but the question is why things have changed." The going theory was that the increase in activity signaled that someone, most probably a follower of Voldemort, had taken up the despot's mantle. Everyone was trying to carry on as usual besides the extra vigilance, but Sirius could almost taste the tension in the air, it was that thick. The upside of having so much activity in the house though, was that it made him feel a bit more like he had a family but he was also itching to do some real work on the front-line.

He trudged upstairs to the bathroom, turning the heat up in the shower as high as he could bear it. His body was sore, and scattered with little cuts and bruises from narrowly deflected hexes and offensives. The water both burned and soothed him, but he felt quite good nevertheless. Proud. He'd shown the younger recruits that he deserved to be there. Even if they still had lingering doubts about his character, nobody could question his capability, and for now at least that's all that mattered. Harry had mentioned that Sirius was on track to qualify early, as they'd expected. "If it was my choice I would put you through now – god knows, we need the extra man-power – but it would be wiser to follow process so nobody can question the decision when it's made". So depending on his performance at the mid-program testing, there was a good chance he was going to be in the field in just under a month. One month of that and he'd be badged and armed with the authority he needed to get on things the way he wanted to. Each time he heard news about a new arrest or lead, he yearned to be in the field himself. His inability to do what he needed to was too similar to the time he'd spent in hiding, years ago. He'd been so frustrated, feeling so helpless. This time around, he wanted things to be different. He wanted to make up for not being there before. _I just need to protect my own. Is that such a bad thing?_

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he went to his room and immediately flopped onto the bed, heedless of the dampness he was transferring to the bedding. The sheets felt good against his bare skin. Maybe it was the soreness, or the quiet of the house, or both, but he felt what he'd learned to recognise as melancholy steal over him. It was the younger cousin of the deep, all-encompassing depression he'd had in Azkaban, but these days any reminder of his past hurts and regrets was too much.

He thought about Crissy. He'd met the tall blonde at a bar late the year before, and had actually considered turning their casual hook-ups into an actual relationship. He knew she was keen, and he liked her but it hadn't worked out. There was too much mystery between them, too much that had to go unsaid, that couldn't be understood. It seemed the only time they really spent together that they both enjoyed was the sex, and that was really their only point of commonality. "Give me a call if you need me, hon," she'd said when they agreed it wouldn't work out. He hadn't called her, and after turning down a few of her late night solicitations, they had drifted apart. He knew if he arrived on her doorstep right now, there'd be nothing stopping them from tumbling right back into the sack again. Just to stop thinking. _You're just lonely Pads. Don't be stupid  
_Even if he gave into the idea – and the last thing he could imagine right now was more vigorous physical activity – he knew he'd just feel worse afterwards. Shaking his head at himself, he turned onto his stomach, star-fished across the bed and eventually drifted into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

If Hermione thought things would be different, awkward, after her heart-to-heart with Sirius, she was wrong. She still couldn't decide if she was happy about that or not. The wizard had seemed to double his efforts to get under her skin ever since that embarrassing incident in the kitchen. She'd also been tickled, grabbed and poked in the side more in the last few weeks than she had as a schoolgirl. It annoyed her that he could be serious and rational in one moment, and acting the fool the next. Hah, well if he though she was still the gawky, innocent teenager she'd once been, he was in for a re-education. This Hermione knew how to bite back. He teased her at breakfast, with the Lupins there, and she felt the urge to clip him over the ear for it. It was a rare weekend morning that all the inhabitants of Grimmauld were in the kitchen at the same time.

"What's with all these long pants and robes, Granger? I know you have prettier things," he dug, as she walked in. Hermione forced a blush down at the – unintended? – implication of his words to the others. Dolt. He was balancing precariously on the back legs of his chair, looking his usual arrogantly handsome self, and she gave him a hard nudge as she passed. He almost tipped of balance and had to grab onto the table to right himself.

"You wish, _Black_," she said loftily, turning her nose up at him as she settled at the breakfast bar, tea in hand. "Remus is that today's Prophet?" The werewolf passed the paper her way, watching the interaction between his best friend and Hermione with undisguised intrigue.

"Oh but I do wish, love, I wish every morning," Sirius was saying, as if he hadn't just almost gone arse over snorted. He was really an outrageous flirt. "Seriously though, that silk purple number, remember, from that night?" At that she startled, almost knocking over her teacup, and her cheeks went hot against her will. Accursed fair skin!

"Oh, you mean the night you drunkenly ogled me and then cracked your head on the wall?" she recovered smoothly, continuing to peruse the paper as though she were completely unaffected by his words. Remus coughed, spluttering tea as he tried to cover a laugh, and Tonks shot her cousin an incredulous look. Teddy, who had been inhaling sugary cereal with the gusto only a seven year old could have in the morning, piped up.

"Uncle Siri, what's ogled?" Tonks look of disbelief at Sirius turned into a glare.

Sirius, to his credit had the decency to look a little chided. "In my defense" he started. There was a long pause, as though he were actually thinking. "I _am _Sirius", he finished. Tonks rolled her eyes and Remus chuckled.

"Good point old friend."

"C'mon bug, let's go get dressed," said Tonks to her son. The Lupins were going out with the Potters and their kids and Teddy was thrilled.

"They haven't wasted any time this go, have they?" Hermione said, looking at a long list of names printed in the paper. It named all suspected war criminals to watch out for, there in honest black and white.

"Better that then the way it was when Voldemort came back and the Ministry refused to believe any of us." Remus saw Hermione's eyes stop briefly at one particular name. "You alright dear?" he asked her. She looked up with a small smile.

"I think so," she said. "How about you?"

"I won't mince words that I'd like to see that mongrel hung from the tallest tree," said Remus bluntly. It was always strange to hear the usually soft-spoken man when he spoke the way he was now, but for Sirius it was far more remarkable to him as to how much Remus had come to accept his wolf as a part of himself. Sure, it had taken a few decades, a lot of self-hatred, one mate, a child… But Remus was probably the most at ease with himself than Sirius had ever seen him. It certainly helped that the Ministry had changed so much on the stance of magical creatures after the war. Not by any means did his friend thank Greyback for his lycanthropy; he had decided to try to enjoy a life even with it. Sirius was actually a little in awe of old Moony.

Tonks and Teddy came back into the kitchen, both looking fresh and dressed for the day. "Ready to go love?" the Metamorphagus asked her husband. Remus nodded, draining his tea. On the way out Tonks almost knocked into a cabinet of dishware, which shuddered ominously. They both watched with wide eyes as a white china plate rolled towards the edge. There was a 'whoosh' from the living room signaling that the Lupins had left; at the same time the plate teetered and rolled right off the edge. Sirius went to grab his wand, but he was too slow with languor, and winced, waiting for the shatter. It didn't come, and when he opened his eyes, he saw the plate hovering inches from the floor. Sirius turned to Hermione to see her bare hand stretched out, a fierce look of concentration and pain on her face.  
"Fuck me," he said, admiration colouring his voice. He turned to look back at the plate which she lowered down. It wobbled as it touched the ground, and she heaved a sigh, laying her head down on her hands. "You alright?" he asked, frowning.

"Yes I'm okay," came her muffled voice. "Just exhausted."

"That's the wandless magic, right? Does it do that?"

"Yes, but that's the first time I've done that. Some things use more magical energy than others… gods this is amazing, I must make notes!" She lifted her head and he was struck breathless by the fire in her eyes and her cheeks. She rushed out of the room, muttering and gesturing to herself about 'will' and 'intent' and 'gravitational forces', leaving him to question his own sanity.

* * *

**_Sneak Peek Chapter Seven. _**

_"I can't believe I'm only halfway through this pregnancy!" Ginny was flushed with heat. "I've tried every cooling charm in the book and it's still not enough. Gods, you'd think I was growing a fireball in here," she said as she patted her small bump. "I can't wait until November."_


	7. Chapter Seven: What If

**Disclaimer: **All canon characters, places, plots and situations from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from this.

**Warnings: **Rated M for language, violence and scenes of a sexual nature in later chapters.

**A/N:** If there is a single definitive source on the canon birth and death dates of all characters, it has eluded me. I literally have pages of equations based on various info I've found and it all comes out with different answers. I might be crap with numbers but I swear this isn't all me. For the sake of this story, at this point Sirius is thirty-seven and Hermione is twenty-five.  
Apologies for the lateness of this chapter. I had some bad news yesterday and we also had load-shedding (no electricity). Hope you enjoy this chapter, and any feedback would be awesome.

* * *

**Chapter Seven: What If  
**

oOoOoOo

Sirus Black flirted with everyone. In his honest opinion, flirting wasn't so much sexual as stroking the other person's ego, charming them. The same way he called women love, without actually loving them. It was particularly useful when one woke up in the bed of a woman whose name one did not remember.

Oh he'd loved Lily, loved James' mother. He supposed he loved Tonks and Andromeda too. He even loved Hermione, and Ginny. But that love was not a romantic love. He lusted after women, had been infatuated with a few – mostly when he was still a teenager desperate for the next encounter – and even briefly thought himself in love with a woman he met in Knockturn Alley on one particularly forgettable lads night out almost twenty years before. In his defense, she had used a love potion on him, slipped it into his drink at the pub they'd gone to. After that incident the four of them had decided they'd had their fill of dodgy experiences in dodgy alleys, which weren't so much adventurous as stupid, and stuck to the Three Broomsticks.

So he flirted with _everyone_, including Charlie, as Hermione had pointed out. Personally he felt it was an act of generosity, a little gift for the dragon tamer's wank-bank. How his mother had not figured out her second son was as gay as Dumbledore in a pink frock was beyond him. At that, he'd even made the Weasley matriarch blush more than a few times, much to the consternation of her youngest son.

It had started this way with Hermione. Just a natural propensity to make pretty women blush, to charm them, get under their skin. He barely had to think about it, it was that easy and by the way. Six months into their friendship, however, he could no longer deny the way he felt when he was around her, and lately, frustratingly, even when he wasn't. As much as his reputation preceded him, Sirius had only really had male friends throughout his life. The only woman he would call a genuine friend was Lily, and even that was because of James. Lily had been like a sister to him, though while he also felt protective of Hermione, she did not feel like a sister.

He liked their banter, their discussions and even their arguments. There was something utterly charming and intriguing about Hermione's duality, how she could, one moment, give as good as she got, and the next be nearly scarlet with innocence. She kept him on his toes. Recently her brainy little mouth had been leaving him feeling all twisted up in his head. Her insight and passion made him feel a little bare, a little uncomfortable, and, if he was being honest, more than a little turned on.

At first it was deceptively simple to chalk his attraction, and that it was her he inevitably drifted to while attending to himself in the shower, to their proximity and his being a single man of age. He couldn't pretend it wasn't something else any longer, and he wasn't even sure when it started. He loved her as a friend, and was simultaneously infatuated with her, a combination he had never dealt with before.

This bothered him for two reasons. Firstly, this was Hermione. His godson's best friend, someone he'd known however briefly and distantly as a child. Even with the Veil, he was still a good twelve years older than her.

Secondly, she was so very unlike the women he'd always gravitated to. Hermione wasn't a girl you shagged and ticked off the list. The very idea of him doing this to her made him angry enough to want to punch himself, which was a complete brain-fuck. The thing is, it's not that he didn't want 'something more'. Watching his best friend and godson with their families had awoken a hunger in him that twenty-one year old Sirius would've laughed at. And like every single time he'd discovered a new truth about who he was now, it left him feeling out of control.

For example, he found sharing a bathroom with the witch not inconvenient or a pain in the arse – even when she forced him to learn some cleaning charms to keep up with his end of things – but actually fascinating. The steam she left behind after a shower, scented with her body products, was delicious. He knew her hair smelled like coconut, that she used a peach body lotion and watermelon flavoured lipbalm. He noticed how she divvied up her actions, doing things half magic, half Muggle – like washing the dishes by hand sometimes.

Then there were the little feminine things. A plush towel, her fluffy champagne-coloured shower pouf and her stash of razors and tampons in the little cupboard beneath the sink. Apart from his mother and James', he'd never really lived with a woman, especially the former whose paraphernalia he had no desire to recall.

He liked the way she left little signs of her 'Hermione-ness' scattered around Grimmauld, and they had Remus asking him more than once what he was smiling about. A novel here and there, bookmarked with whatever she'd had at hand at the time – once, a Chocolate Frog wrapper, another time, bizzarely, a single sock. A bottle of Muggle nail polish on the couch that he knew would exactly match the colour on her toes that day.

Sirius realised that he knew more about Hermione and more _of _Hermione than any other woman, past and present in his life. This unsettled him, the sheer alien sensation of his infatuation, which he had admitted he could no longer blame on his celibacy or breakup with Crissy. He noticed himself making more and more excuses to touch her, to be around her, to have her attention on him, any way he could get it. It both disturbed and amused him that he could get so twisted up by a single accidental kiss on the neck. Altogether the whole thing left him feeling an unfamiliar mixture of inappropriate, greedy and incredibly out of his depth.

So when training had begun it was the blessing that required a large amount of his focus and energy, which helped him get his mind over… whatever this was. Which is also why he was rather irritated when Moony spoiled all his hard work, making things a lot more difficult.

"Ale?" his friend asked, passing him a chilled bottle. They were in a box at the Quidditch match between the Bigonville Bombers and Heidelberge Harriers. Far below them the opening ceremony was taking place on the pitch. The officiant was proving to be hilariously pompous, which made him laugh, and he hoped that would satisfy Remus. His friend had suggested a boys' night, just them, because Sirius had been 'brooding' recently. Now Sirius was wondering if perhaps Moony was actually just a very tall, exceptionally ugly woman with an impressive moustache and a penchant for shoveling bacon bits into his gob. The direction their conversation was going in didn't feel very manly at all, even if they were not looking at each other much at the time.

"So what's going on between you and Hermione?"

"What? Nothing, Moony."

"Your cousin is thirteen years younger than me, you know. We got married."

"Don't remind me." But Moony continued on cheerfully.

"There are only just twelve years between the two of you."

"She's my godson's best friend! I knew her as a teenager!"

"You barely knew her as a teenager, and even so. I knew Dora when she was a child."

Sirius turned to him then, his face scrunched up in mock horror. "Oh gods Moony, you really are a perverted old codger!"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Is that what this is about? The age difference? Actions don't lie, Pads, and I see the way you are with her. I've known you a long time, friend. And not to mention you flirt outrageously with her at any given chance."

"I always flirt, it's my natural state," Sirius argued, taking a swig of ale as the teams took to the field and air in their displays.

"Maybe. But what's her excuse?"

Sirius paused at that, jaw twitching. "She humours me," he said.

"You care about her."

"Of course I care about her! Doesn't mean I want to shag her," he argued. "I've just been a bit lonely s'all, and she's a pretty woman and I haven't had sex in four and a half months!" he blurted. Ale sprayed so hard and impressively out of Remus' mouth, Sirius had to wiped down the side of his face with his robe. "So dramatic," muttered Sirius. "And they say I'm the loud one." Remus' eyebrows had almost entirely disappeared into his hairline.

"Let me get this straight. You, Sirius Black, scourge of innocent virgins Hogwarts-wide, the same wizard who unapologetically set about shagging everything that moved after you returned – what was it, you said? 'Making up for lost time?'-"

"S'not like I was bonking my way through Azkaban," grumbled Sirius, as Remus heedlessly continued over him.

"-You mean to tell me _you've _not had a shag in that long? His voice was louder than Sirius would've liked.

"Godric's sake Moony, if I wanted it splashed across the Daily Propher I'd have gone straight to them, thanks very much," he hissed.

"Not even a-?" Here Remus made an obscene gesture that had been the center of their world as teenage boys. It was so strange seeing a forty-four year old Remus Lupin do that when Sirius remembered the wizard at fifteen.

He laughed. "No, not even."

"You're serious."

Sirius ran a finger around the rim of the bottle in his hand. "That's what I keep telling you."

"Oh ha-ha. So what happened with that dancer, what was her name? Crissy? I thought you were getting a bit relation-shippy with her."

"Relation-shippy? Mate you've been spending too much time gossiping with my cousin. I haven't seen Crissy since early in the year. We ended things, anyway, the point is, there's nothing going on between Hermione and me. I'm just horny as fuck and she's nice to look at."

Remus shook his head. "Yeah you're not really making your case here, it's even more than I'd thought."

"Moony."

"Okay, okay," said Remus, holding his hands up. "I just don't understand why you're fighting this. It's not like she doesn't return the interest."

"If that's even true. And I highly doubt it's true because Hermione is smart enough to know what's good for her and I am not on that list. I miss the old Remus, you used to be too busy putting your own knickers in a knot to worry about my love-life."

The whistle signaling the start of the game went, saving Sirius from anything else Remus might've wanted to say on the subject. There was a flurry of motion as the players took to the air, and the crowd roared with anticipation, but to Sirius was all background noise.

* * *

He was being ridiculous. He had never managed to get himself so twisted up over a woman before. Yes, there had been women that made him chase them, women he'd lusted over and pursued but as awful as it sounded, once that desire had been satisfied, there was nothing to keep working for. Sirius didn't know which would be worse; starting something with Hermione that she didn't deserve, or doing it and finding out that she was like an itch that couldn't be scratched enough.

Remus and Tonks had thrown a small dinner at Grimmauld Place, just a get together. It was the pair of them and their son, Harry, Ginny, Ron, Eva, Hermione and himself, Sirius. Hermione was sitting across from him, leaning on her elbow, a glass of red wine in her other hand, her honey curls shiny in the candlelight. Remus was talking to her, something about Hogwarts he imagined. Ginny, Tonks and Eva were talking about pregnancy – he'd caught a few words of that discussion and really didn't want to be a part of that conversation. Ron was hoofing down chocolate mousse with gusto. Harry, beside him, was telling Teds about being an Auror, a conversation he supposed he should be a part of, but he was rather distracted. Every now and again he would catch Hermione's eye across the table, and he noticed that each time she would blush lightly, even stroking her collarbone self-consciously once. His chest felt tight, like he wanted to laugh hysterically and run away screaming at the same time, but he couldn't help looking.

"Just so you know, I would be okay with it," said a quiet voice beside him, startling him. Teds was now interrogating Ron on the ins and outs of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

Sirius turned to Harry. "What are you talking about?" His godson gave him a withering look and Sirius sighed. "I liked you better when you worshipped me." He took a deep breath, feeling on the precipice of two different paths. "Is it that obvious?" he eventually asked under his breath.

"Yes. To me at least," said Harry. "She's my best friend and you're my godfather. I see it."

"And it doesn't bother you? That I'm technically twenty years older than her?" he asked. He couldn't believe he was actually entertaining this line of conversation, as if he were actually considering it, and with Harry no less.

Harry topped up his wine glass. "Well, for one thing, you're _technically _twelve years older than her. We're not kids anymore Sirius. Hermione can choose to date whoever she wants to. And, if you ask me, I always thought an older bloke would be better for her."

"But… me?"

Harry frowned. "Why not? You two have this bubble you go into when you're around one another. I haven't heard Hermione laugh as much as she has since the two of you became friends, not for a long time. Yeah, she yells a lot as well, but she's loosened up and I think you're good for her. I know that she grounds you, encourages you. What about that wouldn't I want for either of you?"

Harry turned as Teds tugged on his shirt to get his attention, and Sirius stole another look at Hermione. His stomach was a cauldron on high heat, boiling and uncomfortable. He reached for the Firewhiskey.

"Oh goodness, look at the time," said Tonks. "Time for you to go to bed baby," she said to Teddy, who immediately started whining. "How bout I come up with you and get you tucked in?" asked Harry, and the little boy brightened immediately, giving his godfather a gap-toothed grin. Tonks mouthed a thank you to Harry and the two of them headed up the stairs after Teddy had said his goodnights.

"I can't believe it's already halfway through the year," mused Hermione.

"I can't believe I'm only halfway through this pregnancy!" Ginny was flushed with heat. "I've tried every cooling charm in the book and it's still not enough. Gods, you'd think I was growing a fireball in here," she said as she patted her small bump. "I can't wait until November."

"Bet she's going to be a firecracker like her mum, our goddaughter." said Sirius to Hermione, nodding at Ginny's tummy. He didn't miss the sly looks Moony and his cousin were giving one another. What? Had he said something wrong?

"I wish this Death Eater business would just be over," said Ginny. "I hate that Harry's working so hard all the time, especially now."

"We've been working on this since the war," said Tonks. "I think we've established it's not going to happen overnight. Hopefully we'll be quiet when the baby comes." She smiled sympathetically at Ginny.

"There just might be a chance of that," said Sirius. "Captures have been dropping over the last few months. I think we've scared them back into whatever hole they were hiding in."

"Why'd they even bother coming out, is what I want to know," said Ron dryly.

Hermione shrugged. "I imagine they didn't 'come out' so much as got lazy and cocky. So many years have passed since the War. It's had that effect on all of us, hasn't it? She nodded to Tonks. "Except for you and Harry, Sirius of course because time hadn't passed for him, and the few Order members we have working in the Ministry, none of us have been forced to think about it, not really. I imagine to some degree it's been the same for them." A few heads nodded.

"So you don't think they're up to something?" said Eva.

"Judging by the pattern and types of attacks, it's difficult to see that they have any common goal," said Remus carefully.

"But," came Harry's voice as he came back into the room, "We can't discount anything. Remus is right, there doesn't seem to be any meaning to what we've been seeing, not yet at least. For example, we were certain a few were headed to London with the intention to attack some of the Order, but then we get reports that show us they're going in the opposite direction. Could be we scared 'em off, could be that was never their intention, could be there's something else going on and we haven't figured out yet."

"Fuckin' Death Eaters," grumbled Ron. "There's always something going on innit?"

"Well, at least our Auror force is in the best shape it's been in years. Speaking of which," he turned to look at Sirius. "I think every one should know you're all looking at our latest qualified Auror." He was grinning at his godfather as the table erupted into congratulations, clapping and well wishes. Tonks, who had known it was coming, grinned at her cousin.

Sirius was stunned. He didn't know why, since they'd known this was going to happen but now that it had, it was surreal. Only when Harry stood up to give him a hug and thump on the back did he come back to the moment, grinning with excitement at his success and that all these people were glad for him. He was so excited that when Hermione reached to give him a hug, he lifted her clear off the ground, ignoring her squeak or that he held on a little longer than he probably should've."The actual graduation ceremony will be Friday next week at the Ministry, for anyone who wants to attend," said Harry. There was a chorus of confirmations to the invitation and Sirius felt his throat tighten up strangely.

"Auror Black!" said Remus proudly, thumping Sirius on the back again.

"We'll go celebrate after, yeah?" Harry was amused by Sirius' speechlessness.

* * *

That next Monday Hermione was surprised to find Sirius, instead of Padfoot, joining her on her run. He was even wearing running gear. "What's this about?" she said, as he effortlessly fell into step with her.

"Have to keep my Auror body fit too love," he explained cheerily. _Believe me, you are fit,_ she thought immediately, and was glad she was already flushed with the exercise. They ran for another twenty minutes, chatting here and there when they slowed the pace. The park was quiet and cool, the sun just setting when they came to an exhausted stop. "I think our James has a little crush on Rose," Sirius said, panting. Hermione grimaced as she stretched her tired legs. He pulled off his shirt, splashing himself from the drinking fountain nearby and she considered him, peeping from under her eyelashes. He had wide shoulders and his chest was defined, though not overly so. A light scattering of dark hair between his pecs led down to the happy trail that disappeared into his running shorts. His chest and arms were covered with all sorts of tattoos.

Hermione tried not to let his semi-nudity affect her but it was getting tiring suppressing or explaining away the thoughts and feelings that accompanied her anytime she thought of the Animagus. It had been going on a few months now, and if she wasn't so sure that he would be completely uninterested, uncomfortable and mortified, she felt like she would confess her attraction right there and then just to get the weight off her shoulders.

"What gave you that impression?" she asked him as they both flopped down on a nearby bench. He used his shirt to wipe his face.

"He said, he thought she was 'very pretty'" he grinned.

"Really?" She smiled. "He actually said that?"

"He did."

"That's funny. He spends so much time pulling her hair and picking on her. Boys."

"We can be contrary too," he said, and tugged sharply on her ponytail before taking off too fast for Hermione to land a smack.

"Oi!" she yelled, running after him. He was a lot slower than Padfoot, but she could hear him laughing as he ran.

She wouldn't think about the implications of their conversation until much, much later.

* * *

**_Sneak Peek Chapter Eight:_**

_"__You're so pretty Ron", wheezed Harry, to which Ron responded by giving him the finger, adding to Mrs. Weasley's growing disapproval of the whole matter._


	8. Chapter Eight: Beer Beer Cheer

**Disclaimer: **All canon characters, places, plots and situations from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from this.

**Warnings: **Rated M for language, violence and scenes of a sexual nature in later chapters.

**A/N:** I hope you all enjoyed the last chapter, I felt like it was my best one so far. I had heaps of fun working on this one too. It's a bit different as it's mostly set in one place with a lot going on. Would love to hear your feedback. Thanks for all your fantastic reviews so far, even those pointing out discrepancies of any kind. This is my first story and I am loving how much I'm learning. At some point I may go through all my chapters and try to improve the formatting, spelling etc. but right now I don't have the time to do anything really except work on my chapters and I'd like to update more often than not. So enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Beer Beer Cheer**

oOoOoOo

On Friday, the twenty-seventh of June, Sirius Black graduated from the British Aurorship Programme with flying colours. Since he was graduating before the usual time, it was a small, private ceremony in the main hall of the Auror Department. Almost all the Weasleys had turned up, and of course, the Potters and Lupins, Hermione, Luna – who was back from living abroad – and to Sirius' surprise, Minerva McGonagall. Earlier at home, he'd asked Hermione to help him suit up, saying that the graduation robes were a bit fiddly. He hadn't actually needed the help, but the feel of her smaller hands adjusting the lapels and her body so close to his own he could drink in her scent calmed his nerves.

There was a short speech from Minister Shacklebolt and then Harry presented Sirius his Auror badge with a wide, proud grin. Everyone had cheered, looking so genuinely happy for him that he felt close to bursting with a sense of belonging. Afterwards, some of them trooped off in a fit of nostalgia to the Three Broomsticks for a celebratory drink or five.

Friday night at Broomsticks was buzzing and Hermione thought they were lucky enough to find a booth big enough for all of them to squeeze into, let alone get served. "Let me get the drinks," Sirius insisted while everyone else squashed in around the table. Hermione watched as he went over to the bar where a still beautiful older witch was laughing raucously with another customer. Madam Rosmerta was still the proud owner and barkeep of the pub, which she had returned to use under her careful restoration following the war. It was quite a clever choice, Hermione though, for her to restore it looking exactly as it had been for years and years before, since most of its patrons seemed to be previous Hogwarts students. The nostalgia paid off.

Their table was long, with chairs around in a 'U' shape. Hermione was at one end, then Eva, Ron, Ginny, Harry, Luna, George, Charlie, Remus and Tonks and finally, Molly and Arthur who'd caved to the cajoling to come along for 'just one drink'. It was rowdy in a pleasant way. At that moment Ginny and Luna were both regaling the others with their various experiences as reporters, for Quidditch Magazine and The Quibbler respectively. Everyone was glad to welcome Luna back to London. The witch had been traveling through Europe over the last couple of years but had kept in correspondence with her school friends through Owl Post. She still had an airy way of talking and a multitude of strange ideas, but in the post-war world she was a breath of fresh air.

Hermione half-listened as she looked over her shoulder, watching the dark-haired Marauder capture the bar lady's attention. Rosmerta was exclaiming and reaching over the bar to heartily place a kiss on each of his stubbled cheeks. Sirius said something to her and she roared with laughter, smacking him playfully with the tea towel in her hand. He turned towards them to indicate their group, and his eyes caught hers. She whipped her face back to the table, her cheeks burning, but nobody else had noticed. That was, until she looked up and saw Mr. Weasley looking at her, a benevolent expression on his face. It was so fatherly that she suddenly, terribly missed her own father and had to force down the lump in her throat, turning to join the rest of them in laughter at a joke she'd hadn't even heard.

"Shift up, love," came Sirius' voice beside her as he squeezed in. Rosmerta was in train with pints upon pints of mulled mead, Butterbeer, a strawberry syrup soda for Ginny and a bottle of Ogden's Finest. "Thanks love," he said as the drinks were passed around until everyone had a drink in their hand.

"To Pads," toasted Remus. "Living proof the value of experience over youth. Congrats old friend."

"Cheers, chin chin," said everyone tapping as many glasses within reach as possible before taking their first sip.

Almost immediately there was a shriek, and Hermione turned to see Ron, squeezed between his sister and his wife, his lips quadrupled in size. Was that… lipstick? The source of the shriek was Mrs. Weasley, and Ginny, Harry and Luna were doing a terrible job of looking innocent. George was outright laughing his head off. Looking extremely put out – difficult to do when you've got pink painted Mick Jagger lips, giggled Hermion – Ron turned to his brother. "Oi!" he said, sounding like he had a mouth full of mashed potato. "Gedditoffme," he yelled, incensed when Eva burts into a fit of giggles realising it was just a Whizz. He swiveled towards her, the expression of betrayal so comical that she only laughed harder and pushed the beer he'd been drinking away from him.

"You're so pretty Ron," wheezed Harry, to which Ron responded by giving him the finger, adding to Mrs. Weasley's growing disapproval of the whole matter. Hermione could feel the reverberations of Sirius' barking laughter where their shoulders and thighs touched.

"Now now little brother, remember that there's only one way to get rid of that," said George loftily, Ron looking as though he'd like nothing more than to throw himself across the table and strangle his brother with his bare hands. It was difficult to feel too sorry for Ron, since the brothers had been working together for years and it still never failed to amaze how often George tested their products on his brother, nor how often Ron managed to get fooled by him.

Ron turned to his wife, grabbed her face and planted a wet kiss to her cheek, leaving behind a sticky, gigantic mouth-shaped lipstick stain on her face. His own lips began shrinking back to normal size, conversation already moving onto potential victims for this latest trick and she heard Severus Snape's name come up as a candidate who would be hard pressed to find someone he could kiss. She rolled her eyes. The man had been declared a war hero, but he was still the sour man they'd grown up with and she'd tired of telling the boys to show him respect.

Soon Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were bidding the rest of them goodnight, Flooing home. "We'd better get back too, we've still got to fetch the kids from Bill's anyway," said Ginny as Harry helped her up. Since Teddy was spending the night with his grandmother, Remus and Tonks were free to stay. Charlie said his own goodbyes; he had a Portkey to catch and had just been fortunate enough to fit in Sirius' graduation and a drink or two.

As the alcohol and good spirits flowed so did the stories. Ron relayed the trio's escape from Gringotts. "In retrospect, that wasn't the brightest idea was it," commented Hermione. Tonks shared a few amusing tales from Auror missions gone wrong and Remus was happy to share stories from their youth, especially ones about Sirius' shenanigans. Everyone was in fits of laughter.

"Well Sirius here asks her, if the name 'The Three Broomsticks' referred to the fact that the pub has always been owned and run by a father and two-son team, why she hadn't renamed it after it came into her ownership," said Remus, laughing. "So she says, 'Oh really, and what would you suggest' – I don't think she was being serious, the pubs as old as Hogsmead itself and I don't think it's ever been called anything but The Three Broomsticks regardless of ownership – but Pads here says, 'Considering there are no longer three broomsticks involved, perhaps 'The One Quaffle'?"

"Oh Sirius, you didn't," Hermione giggled, her eyes watering from all the laughing.

"Really Black, even I know a gentleman doesn't refer to a lady's quaffle, at least not in public," said George, mocking a scandalised expression.

Sirius feigned indignancy. "I was young, I hadn't honed my charm quite yet," he said. "It's all in the delivery, you see," he said, turning to Hermione.

"Rosmerta's always been fairly risqué herself but back then she was still using the iron rule with us youngsters, being so young herself, you see. She needed to establish her authority," said Remus. "So thanks to Pads here we _all_ got kicked out."

"And then?" asked Eva, her eyes wide.

"Well the next time we come around, Sirius refuses to stay after she's given him the evil eye, so he drags the rest of us off to a pub in Knockturn Alley – by the way, how did you even know there was a pub there?" he asked Sirius.

"I could hardly _drag_ you Moony, let alone James and-" His voice faltered here suddenly, and Hermione squeezed his knee under the table sympathetically. "Anyway, any pureblood wizard from a dark family has a general idea of what's around those parts," he finished, but the mood had dropped a little. "I'm going out for a smoke," he said suddenly, getting up and going outside. Hermione looked at Remus, who nodded, before she got up and followed him outside.

He was standing a few feet from the pub, against the wall, lit cigarette in his hand, his body language screaming defensiveness and anger. She went to him. "And that?" she asked, looking up into stormy grey eyes. He looked away, blowing out smoke and ashing his cigarette. The street was busy even this late at night, with witches and wizards out for their evening entertainment.

"I should have killed that bastard when I had the chance. Years. _Years_ he sat and slept and ate beside us and look what's happened because of it. Think of all the trouble I could have prevented if I'd just-"

"-Just what?" snapped Hermione, her eyes boring into his. He looked down at her, standing planted there with her arms crossed and her eyes blazing. "No, please do explain to me how you were supposed to know what Wormtail was doing, and even better, please explain to me how by getting rid of him you single-handedly could've stopped Voldemort. Please do, I'm simply enthralled."

"Don't you preach at me love, you know exactly what guilt feels like," said Sirius, with a snide laugh.

"How is that relevant, let alone a good reason for you standing out here, in the dark, berating yourself for something you didn't know and can't change? While your friends sit in there, here to celebrate _you _and _your _future. Or is this whole Auror thing just about redemption?" she said, knowing she'd hit the nail on the head when he turned his body towards hers.

"Don't you wish you could go back and save your parents?" he said.

She hissed with frustration and hurt. "That's not the _point _Sirius, of course I would if I could, but I can't, and more than that, I wouldn't be able to because _I didn't know_. I didn't know it was going to happen, and neither did you! You _didn't know_ and there – Is – no - reason – you – should –have!" she said, poking a finger into his chest to punctuate her last words. His hand came up fast and grabbed her around the wrist, his lips pressed together tightly. Hermione's heart was thumping erratically against her chest, and she could see he was also struggling to control himself by the way his chest rose and fell, the harsh breaths he took. His eyes dropped to her lips and she trembled, with excitement or anger, she couldn't tell.

"Oi looky here who it is," came a familiar voice behind her, and Sirius let go of her wrist as she turned to see the speaker. It was Kris, and by the looks of it, a group of his friends. It looked as though they had all just stepped out of the Three Broomsticks as well. He was slurring slightly and looked wobbly on his feet. "Look lads, here's the slut who wouldn't put out, too good for us regular blokes," he grinned, his mates all laughing stupidly, clearly pissed out of their minds as well.

She felt Sirius move behind her and held out a palm to him, pleading him to stay back. He ground his teeth but did as she asked. The witch looked back at her co-worker. "Kris I wouldn't touch you with a bargepole you creep, and it has nothing to do with your popularity."

"S'fine, I wouldn't want to fuck you anyway, God knows you must've been round the block by now, if the papers are to believed. I mean look at you, standing on the street with a bloke in the dark-" Hermione whipped out her wand and was pointing it at the man's face before she even realised it, her arm trembling, a curse on the tip of her tongue. _He's drunk, _she told herself. _Hermione, he's drunk and pathetic, just let it go.  
_  
Giving him a scornful look, she tucked away her wand, moving away but reached out and grabbed at her, fisting her cloak and dragging her towards him. "Where the fuck you think you're going when I'm talking to you, you frigid bitch-" but whatever else he was about to say he didn't get the chance as Sirius lunged forward out of the shadows, and punched him squarely in the mouth. It was a horrid wet and snapping sound and he fell to the ground, spitting out blood and what looked like part of a tooth. He clutched his face in pain, and when his friends saw just who it was that'd decked him, they backed off quickly.

"You arsehole," Kris slurred, staggering to his feet, "You fucking bastard, who do you think you are, you think I'm afraid of you? I'll have you arrested, I'll have you-"

Sirius felt a rush of satisfaction as he whipped out his Auror badge and shoved it in the shorter man's face. The man's eyes widened. "You so much as breathe in her direction again, Godric help you, you so much as whisper her name in the dark and I will make sure you find out just how _bad _Sirius Black can be," he growled.  
By this time all the commotion had attracted a small crowd of people and Madam Rosmerta appeared in the doorway.

Kris turned to her. "This brute hit me! He's threatened me!" he said, wiping the blood away from his mouth. "He should be thrown out!"

"I can't throw them out even if I wanted to, since this happened outside of my premises, on the street," said Rosmerta evenly. "But what I can do, is refuse entry to my establishment-" The drunk wizard smiled smugly at this, looking around at his friends. "- and so consider this your notice of refusal. You and your friends may not re-enter my pub," finished the barkeep looking directly at him, wiping the smile right off his face.

Ron, Remus, Charlie and George had squeezed out of the pub and were now standing close to Hermione and Sirius, grim looks on their faces.  
Kris was looking around for support, but nothing was forthcoming. "I'll – I'll – this isn't the last of it, you hear me?" he limply threatened, backing away towards his friends, and they left as the small crowd dissipated. Hermione and everyone else was ushered back into the pub by Rosmerta. As she stepped in Hermione was pulled into a hug by Tonks, who walked her back to their table.

"Sorry babe," said Tonks. "I would've come out there and given him a black eye to match his mouth, but I might've been obligated as an Auror to take you all in."

"But what if he lodges a complaint against Sirius," asked Hermione worriedly. "Will he lose his badge?"

"Hell no love, and anyway, he's not going to lay a charge. He assaulted you and Sirius acted in defense. That's all there is to it."

Behind the bar Rosmerta was healing Sirius' bloody knuckles with her wand. "What you did out there, he deserved," she said, carefully tracing her wand over his skin. "Normally I don't condone brawling in or outside my pub, as you well know, but what you did there was what a wizard does for his witch. The bloody idiot deserved it."

"Oh! Oh no, we're not together," he said. "Just friends."

"Oh?" Rosmerta said, arching an eyebrow. "That's not what I saw."

"Yes well it's true," grumbled Sirius, wincing as his skin knitted back together. "Thanks love," he said, examining his bruised knuckles. "I think we'll all shove off now eh."

"Absolutely not," said Rosmerta. "I won't have your evening here end on that note, and besides, I've yet to bring you your graduation drink," she smiled at the wizard. "Go on, join your friends and tell them to stick around for just one more drink," she said.

At the table he relayed the message as he slipped in beside Hermione. "You okay love?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"Thank you," said Hermione softly. "You really didn't need to, you know, I could have- _should _have handled it on my own." He knew how much she wanted to be strong for herself but her words carried no real objection and quite frankly even if they had, he didn't give a flying flobberworm.

"I'm never going to stand by while someone touches you and talks to or about you like that, and you're just going to have to deal with it," Sirius responded calmly.

Before Hermione could say anything, Rosmerta arrived at the table bearing a tray of emerald green shooters. "Cheeky Leprechauns, on the house," she said, passing them out. "In celebration of this rascal _finally _reaching adulthood." She laughed, smacking Sirius teasingly on the shoulder.

"Ooh, pretty," said Luna, her eyes fixed on the drink before her.

Hermione frowned. "What do they do?" she said. Experience had taught her that imbibing anything in the magical world without forethought was a gamble.

The barkeep just smiled. "Guess you'll have to find out, won't you?"

"C'mon love", said Sirius, jostling her with an elbow. "Live a little. The lovely lady here is unlikely to poison us, am I right my darling?" he said, turning to Rosmerta, gracing her with a wink, which greatly annoyed Hermione for some reason, and she grabbed her little glass rebelliously. "Enjoy," smirked Rosmerta, heading back to the bar.

"To Pads!" toasted Remus again, and then they were all knocking back a shot. The liquid coated Hermione's mouth, a mint, chocolate and vodka flavour that was surprisingly delicious. They all waited, but nothing happened.

"Well rah-rah for that," said Hermione dryly, when suddenly there was mayhem. She just glimpsed George lunge for Luna's lips before she heard a strangled grunt beside her and turned to find her left hand precariously high on the inside of Sirius thigh. She yelped, embarrassed, and tried to pull away but her hand squeezed instead. A brief glance back to the table told her that everyone was stuck in their own crazy moment, but that thought quickly vanished along with any other sane thought in her head when Sirius dipped his face directly to her chest and licked a stripe up from the little cleavage on show, using the point of his tongue to tickle along her collarbone until he reached the lobe of her ear, which he nibbled. She gave an involuntary gasp and moaned, her own hand having travelled up the short distance left between his thigh and crotch, and was now palming the evidence of his arousal.

And then the magic shifted and it was over as quickly as it had started, pairs jumping apart all around the table, even the married couples. Except for George, who, after realising they were all just going to sit there in awkward silence, threw caution to the wind, grabbing Luna in a clinch and resuming what was obviously a mutually enjoyed snogging session.

Hermione knew she was scarlet with embarrassment and, if she was being honest with herself, enjoyment of what had just happened. Even Remus looked abashed, while Tonks looked smugly satisfied and when she snuck a peek at the man beside her, he wouldn't meet her eyes. Ron's face matched his hair, but he was grinning and his wife was smiling shyly back at him. A quick look around the pub revealed that Rosmerta was curiously absent; the door to the pub was locked and the lights had dimmed, but the Floo had obviously been left open in preparation for their hasty departures.

To Sirius' relief, none of them ever mentioned that evening or the Cheeky Leprechauns again. Even Remus and Tonks were silent on the subject, and he wondered briefly what had gone on amongst the others at the table. When they'd stepped out of the floo into Grimmauld, the couple and their two housemates bid all the others a good night, heading off to bed, barely casting a glance to any of the others. Embarrassment wasn't a familiar sensation to the Animagus, and the shock of his behaviour towards the young witch was soon overshadowed by the memory of her hand on his thigh and cock. When they bumped into one another in the kitchen the next morning, she seemed completely at ease and he was tempted to think she'd obliviated herself in mortification of touching and being touched by him in such a fashion.

Hermione had done no such thing, choosing rather to pretend it hadn't happened at all. They were all certainly sozzled enough; memory loss was a symptom of excessive alcohol consumption, wasn't it? She'd fretted, but Sirius seemed completely unaffected when they bumped into one another at breakfast the next day and she supposed it was not the kind of thing that would make him uncomfortable, considering his track record with the opposite sex. The memory of their argument outside the pub, or the moment that Kris' arrival had interrupted was conveniently pushed to the back of each one's mind.

* * *

**_Sneak Peek Chapter Eight._**

_"Sirius, what is this?" she said softly._

* * *

**A/N**: *_whistling nonchalantly_*


	9. Chapter Nine: What Goes Around

****Disclaimer: ****All canon characters, places, plots and situations from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from this.  
**Warnings: **Rated M for language, violence and scenes of a sexual nature.

**A/N:** Okay, this is a big 'un! It just made sense to end it where I did so hope you enjoy the longer chapter. 

oOoOoOo

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

Please note this chapter includes scenes of a sexual nature, using descriptive language, so if that's not your thing, don't read beyond the first break in the story. From this point on consider this a general warning for this story.

oOoOoOo

**Just a few response to you lovely reviewers:**

**j-jip** Yep, something tells me that crowd is never going to be able to trust good old Rosmerta again, lol. And definitely no more Cheeky Leprechauns in their future. I agree about the punch! Although I'd probably pull a younger Hermione move and secretly enjoy it while lecturing Sirius on the pointlessness of violence. Also, thanks for your review on chapter seven, it's good hearing specifically what is liked or not.

**D-T** Thanks very much for your review in chapter 6, I'm glad you appreciate the development, I think that's the most fun! You are absolutely correct, it's one of those things where I got so caught up in writing Sirius' mind and emotions that I evidently (literally) lost the plot. I might change it but I definitely won't make the same mistake again, so thank you for that and for the rest of your thoughtful review.

**SuneID** Thanks for your review, I'm so stoked you got a laugh out of that, I giggled a lot writing that one. Yep, Rosmerta kind of saved the evening from being a complete bummer, except now everyone won't talk about it for different reasons, lol! My apologies to your offended cat, I often offend my cat by having audible reactions to things too.

Cheeky Leprechauns on the house for all of you who have followed, reviewed and added this story to your favourites. It's the encouragement that fuels me onto the next chapter!

* * *

**Chapter Nine: What Goes Around  
**

oOoOoOo

Hermione got up earlier than usual that Monday morning. Over the weekend she'd sent an owl to their Head of Department, Madam Urna Edgecraft, asking her for an urgent early morning meeting, and the older woman had agreed. She'd also penned a quick owl to Mari, letting her know what had happened in case she needed support in the office.

She entered the Ministry's grand atrium through one of it's many Floos and was gratified to see that it was quieter than normal.  
It was funny, she thought to herself, that when she was younger this building and the witches and wizard in it had had her in awe. Now she was one of those people and knew how ordinary their days actually were. It wasn't as glamorous from this side of the curtain, and that was coming from an Unspeakable. The elevator she took down to ninth was empty, her nervously tapping foot echoing in the small space. Rehearsing what she wanted to say, her feet took her down the familiar route automatically, until she'd reached the entrance to the hall leading to the black door, where a curious sound brought her to a stop.

The Ministry was a large, sprawling, magical building and there were lots of rooms and extensions over the centuries that had been used and abandoned. The direction from which Hermione was certain the noise was coming from happened to be another hallway full of storage rooms. So few people ever had reason to come down to this floor that Hermione felt it was her duty to investigate the sounds. With this in mind she pulled out her wand and quietly made her way down the dark side-passage. Soon she could see that one of the doors was slightly open, and the light spilling through the gap was dim and blue, the same as the light of a Lumos.

She was almost to the door when she heard the giggling, a whisper and then, unmistakably, the moan of someone in pleasure. At that very moment Hermione would have quietly retraced her steps and left the lovebirds alone, if she hadn't also heard two voices and recognised them. One was most definitely her station-mate and friend, Mari, and the other… She struggled to place the tone, the wizard's voice was so familiar. She clamped her hand over her mouth to prevent her squeak of realisation from reaching the room's occupants, and quietly backed out of the passage, making her way to the office.

Now that she was away from them, she began to giggle. Mari and her were going to have a _very _interesting conversation later, thought Hermione, torn between glee at finally having something to hang over her friend's head, and mild shock at what exactly it involved. Or whom.

In the main office shared by all the Unspeakables was another door that led to an office belonging to the Head. It had a large fireplace, a desk, couch, filing cabinets and not much more; Madam Edgecraft as Head Unspeakable was often away on 'important matters'. She greeted Edgecraft as she closed the door behind her, and her superior gave her a warm smile. "Please sit Ms. Granger," said Edgecraft, and Hermione took a seat. The witch had a shoulder length bob of ivory white hair and a severe face that was alleviated by her good temperament. "Now what can I do to help you?" Hermione related what had happened the Friday before and by the end, the older witch was frowning. "Are you afraid for your safety here Ms. Granger"

"Not really," admitted Hermione. Baric might be an Unspeakable but she had war experience. If Sirius hadn't punched the wizard that night, she was sure he'd be in worse shape than just a bloody mouth. Her days of objecting to violence in all situations were long gone. "I am concerned about us working in the same office. Also I wanted to let you know that there'll probably be something in the paper," she said apologetically.

Her Head was familiar with the pitfalls of Hermione's very public status. She nodded, then swished her long, bendy wand to open a filing cabinet and float over a folder to herself. She thumbed through the documents, her reading glasses perched on the edge of her nose. Apart from the crisp sound of each page as it was turned, the room was so silent Hermione though she might've even been breathing too loudly.

"Okay," said the older witch finally, removing her spectacles and raising her eyes to Hermione's. "I'm sorry to say that I won't be able to remove Baric from the office, as he has a two-year contract and we can't replace him at the moment anyhow. I'm sure you can appreciate the information we work with is quite sensitive. Are you sure you can't lay a charge against him for assault?"

"No ma'am, if he'd caused me clear physical damage then yes I might've been able to, but since I don't have a mark on me all I can do is cite his behaviour."

"I see, well that in itself is concerning enough, as far as my thinking goes. This is what I'm going to do. I'm going to go call Baric in to my office now and let him know that he is not, under any circumstances to go near you or speak to you. I understand his workstation is currently the opposite end of the office to yours?"

"Yes it is."

"Well then that's as far away from you I can get him, unfortunately. How does this sound Ms. Granger? You are fully entitled to escalate the issue if you feel it is necessary," said Edgecraft kindly.

"No, I don't think that will be necessary ma'am. I'd rather contain the issue as much as I can, keep things as private as possible," said the young witch. "I'm happy for you to give him a warning about keeping his distance, I'm sure that will be enough to prevent any more conflicts."

"I understand Ms. Granger and should you feel at any point that things need to be re-evaluated, you will come to me, yes?"

"Yes, thanks so much Madam Edgecraft."

"You're most welcome Ms. Granger. I have to address a few letters but as soon as I'm done I'll be out there."

Hermione nodded, and left the office feeling a little lighter already.

Her happiness was short-lived as she re-entered her own office. At the workstation she shared with Mari, there was a large bouquet of flowers on Hermione's desk, and her friend was glaring across the room at Kris as though she could set the wizard on fire with just her eyes. Hermione headed towards her station but Kris met her halfway. "Excuse me," she said firmly, not meeting his eyes.

"Please Hermione, please let me apologise-" begged the man.

"That's Ms. Granger to you, and apologies won't be necessary Mr. Baric. Also, if those flowers are from you I suggest you take them back now or they'll be incinerated in a few minutes. They look quite expensive and I'm sure you can find someone else who will appreciate them."

"Herm- Ms. Granger, _please_," begged the wizard. Hermione looked at him, wondering what it was that had ever made her agree to go out with the wizard.

"Say your piece and get out of my way Mr. Baric," she said finally. He gave a sigh of relief.

"About the other night, I was so very drunk and completely out of order. I never meant to say what I did and I want to apologise and ask if you could forgive me for my careless words-" Hermione could not bear to hear any more.

"Being drunk is not an adequate excuse, not for your words nor your actions. I don't believe that alcohol changes a person, rather than it only exposes what's already inside. Clearly you've been under the misapprehension that I owed you sexual favours in exchange for being a 'nice, ordinary bloke', and I'm glad I got see you that way because I can assure you this will be the last conversation we ever have that isn't strictly professional."

She walked past the wizard to her desk, and thankfully before anything more could be said, Madam Edgecraft entered the room and called Kris away with her for a talk. Hermione made her way over to her desk, settling her bag on top. She rolled her eyes at Mari. "Can you believe his excuses?" she said.

"Didn't hear any of it, you were standing out of range but sure looked like you gave it to him good," said Mari.

Hermione smacked her forehead."Oh yes, privacy charms – he said that he was drunk and spoke carelessly, and asked for my forgiveness. Bloody moron."

"Sounds like you've had one hell of a weekend Books."

"I don't know where my head's at, Mari," confessed Hermione, setting the bouquet on her desk on fire before vanishing it with a flick of her wand.

"Pity, those were pretty," said Mari blandly.

"I warned him," Hermione said happily.

"Books, you can be scary sometimes. You want to get lunch later and tell me what's got Hermione Granger all aflutter?"

"Lunch, yes," said Hermione with a grin. "But first you're going to tell me about the private meeting you seemed to be having with Severus Snape in a storeroom off the main corridor this morning."

* * *

Lunchtime found the pair sitting at a nearby café, deep in conversation. After returning from the Head's office, Kris had looked her way a few times but had so far kept to himself. Although she'd owl'd Mari about Friday night's altercation, she had just now explained, in detail, exactly what had happened in the pub after the fight and was patiently waiting for Mari to stop laughing.

"So was it big?" asked the blonde once she'd caught her breath.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course that's what you'd focus on," she said. Mari shrugged unapologetically.

"I'll tell you about mine if you tell me about yours.

Hermione groaned. "Please let's just pretend that you didn't just offer to tell me about my ex-Professors penis, which, by the way, how did that happen?

"Thank Merlin you found out yourself, I've been going mad keeping this to myself," said Mari eagerly.

"We met at a Potions Conference in Prague last September," the blonde said, with a shy smile that Hermione had never seen on her before. Mari told Hermione how, during a discussion with an arrogant and pushy Potions Novice, Severus was the only other person present besides herself who attempted to call the wizard out on his flawed thinking. "So much ego stroking at these events, you know? Everyone too scared to offend anyone in case they lose a grant or sever a lucrative connect. This is how accidents happen. Bad information because those who know better don't speak up," she said passionately. When the men had spoken over Mari, taking advantage of her status as one of the few females in the field, Severus had taken the wizard to task, exposing his foolishness. "Merlin Books, his voice, his mind, his passion. I could have snogged him there and then," Mari said dreamily. "But of course that would have been unprofessional."

"So how did you get together?"

"Oh I waited for him outside his room and jumped him the moment he showed up."

Hermione laughed out loud at that, thinking how much Mari reminded her of Ginny. If it hadn't been Sirius that was on her mind, she would probably be chatting to her red-headed friend right now. "I can't say I'm not surprised," admitted Hermione. "I wouldn't have seen the match myself. Besides you both being extremely intelligent and talented and sharing an important common interest… You're worlds apart personality-wise."

"Most of you around here would think that," said Mari. "But I didn't know him then and all I can tell you is that he is a wonderful man. Taciturn, broody, impatient – yes, but I know how to bring out the best in him," she said with a telling grin. Opposites attract, look at you and your wizard; he's a wildcard, you're always looking for control. You're Books, he's action."

"He's not my wizard," mumbled Hermione, picking at her poppy seed muffin.

"Darling, from what I've heard he's definitely not anyone elses wizard."

"What do you mean?" said Hermione with naked curiosity.

"I've never met your Sirius myself, but I have friends who like the party scene. He might not be Harry Potter, but he's still well-known enough, especially amongst the women, to be noticed when he's gone," she said, apologetically as Hermione's face fell at the reference to Sirius' reputation. It was also a sobering reminder of the type of women Sirius went after and she knew she definitely did not fit that bill. "Books, I can see that brain of yours going into overdrive. What I was going to say is that whatever Sirius was doing before the two of you started… whatever, he hasn't been doing it for a long time."

"That doesn't prove anything," said Hermione, downcast.

"Yes, but Merlin's sake, please trust me when I say a man who doesn't want to encourage a woman doesn't flirt with her after she's had her hand on his cock, potion-induced or not. If he thought you were a munter he'd be keeping his distance."

"Or, he could be trying not to hurt my feelings, we are friends, you know."

Marietta looked at her for a few long seconds before speaking. "Hun, I know you've had a tough time and letting people in is hard, but that's what relationships take. And while I'm flattered to have managed to get past your walls, if you want a chance at happiness you're going to have to take it."

Hermione gave her friend a small smile. "Thanks Mari," she said, taking a deep breath and letting it out before changing the subject. "Now you still haven't explained to me why all the secrecy with Severus?"

It was Mari's turn to look disappointed, pushing a cherry tomato around on her plate aimlessly as she explained the situation to Hermione. What it came down to was that Severus was a private man, much more so after the war. Mari understood this and was supportive of keeping their relationship private, but as their courtship approached a year, she was beginning to get frustrated with not being able to tell the world that she was his and he was hers. Hermione could easily imagine the looks on some of her friends' faces if it were to come out that their surly ex-Professor was dating a stunningly beautiful and intelligent witch like Mari.

* * *

Sirius stumbled into Grimmauld through the living room floo around eleven o'clock that Monday night, rumpled and smelling faintly of baby powder.

Ginny was almost six months pregnant now, and Sirius had been helping out with the kids as much as possible so that his godson and his wife could have a little more time together. Although looking after Harry's children was exhausting, he really enjoyed being a part of their lives. He couldn't believe the time he'd wasted the year before not being their Uncle Sirius.

By the time Harry and Ginny arrived home that night, Sirius was out for the count on their couch, dressed in an eye-watering orange Chudley Cannons t-shirt he'd found in Harry's wardrobe – the only thing that had fit, and as he had no choice since his own shirt was un-wearable even after the use of cleansing charms, torrid orange it was. Five-year-old James had fallen asleep on Sirius chest, as if the older wizard was simply a mattress that happened to groan when you bounced on it.  
He flopped onto the nearest couch, cricking his neck.

"What in the world are you wearing?" asked Hermione, wrinkling her nose. "And what's that smell?" She was curled up on the other sofa, book in hand.

"Well it's not me, it's this bloody shirt," he said, holding up a plastic bag containing said shirt. He flopped onto another couch. Hermione pulled out her wand and banished the shirt to Sirius laundry, casting a freshening spell for good measure. "Thanks," he said, tipping his neck back, tiredly, exposing the tight column of his neck.

"What have you been doing?" asked Hermione. He really did look awful in orange, although she had never met anyone who looked good in that particular shade of the colour.

"Babysitting at Harry's." She looked at him, puzzled.

"Albus decided it would be a really good time to go for a piss while I was changing his nappy," he explained. Hermione giggled. He lifted his head, casting an affronted glare her way. "I hardly think it's funny that a small child urinated on me," he said, but with a barely concealed laugh of his own.

"It's not that," said Hermione – I really thought you'd come back from the pub! And instead, it's the complete opposite of that. Really Sirius, however are you going to keep up your reputation this way?"

"Was I really that bad?" he asked. She shrugged non-committally , allowing him to continue his story. "So there I am, covered in piss, trying to find something of Harry's to wear, which was almost impossible. He's as lanky as his dad ever was! Anyway, this is the only thing I could find," he said disdainfully, tugging at the hem of the t-shirt. "And then, right after Albus went down, James decided to drag bedtime out into a full circus act," he groaned, covering his eyes with a hand.

"Those little boys have you wrapped around their finger," said Hermione fondly.

"Try neck!" exclaimed Sirius. "James had a night terror and wouldn't stay in bed, so little sprog fell asleep on _me _on the couch. Tell you what, even five year olds are heavy when they're pressing on your delicate bits." Hermione snorted inelegantly. "And then," said Sirius, getting more animated, "Would you believe the pair of them, Harry and Ginny, get home and snap a photograph of us. Of _me _fast asleep, wearing this!"

Hermione snickered, quickly looking neutral when he looked sharply at her. "I'm sure it was sweet, it's nice for the children to have photos with you. Stop being so vain."

"Vain! You get snapped wearing this and tell me about being vain," complained Sirius. "Godric forbid anyone thinks I support the Chudley Canons." He shuddered.

"Well if it makes you feel better," she said absentmindedly as she returned to her book, "I've got heaps of photos with Rose and there's one where she emptied her entire sippy cup on me in public. And I was wearing a white t-shirt. Now that's em-" She looked up at her own words, noticing that Sirius was looking, suddenly and disturbingly perky. "No, no, absolutely not," she said.

"Oh c'mon love, you've heard about mine, s'only fair."

"You must have been hit with a Confundus if you think I'm showing you that photograph, besides, you've heard about mine now so I'm sure that makes us square. Now if you don't mind, I have a book-"

She shrieked as Sirius all but pounced on her. "Photo please," he said, tickling her mercilessly. She was giggling helplessly, her face turning red with the effort of escaping his fingers, which were digging into her ribs and the sensitive insides of her arms, a secret he'd unfortunately discovered.

"Noooo," she cried, laughing, as he wrestled her so she was on her back on the sofa, and he was looming over her, each of her wrists in one of his hands in a cross against her chest. He grinned in victory.

"Now be a good little witch and tell me where I can find this photograph," he said. She shook her head.

"Am I supposed to be afraid of the big bad Auror?" she chuckled. Then, with a pop of her lips, "Nope." Then something in the air shifted, and she noticed his grin fade, his eyes becoming dark and dilated. He was so close to her she could feel the heat coming off him and his cologne invaded her senses. Everything around them seemed to go out of focus. She took shallow breaths. "What are you going to do about it?" she asked softly, completely lost as to what exactly she was talking about in that moment, but it mattered not as he suddenly lowered his lips to hers, sucking her lower lip into his mouth, and he was kissing her. Her stomach swooped violently, and as he released her wrists so he could brace himself above her, she lifted her arms and twined them around his neck.

The kiss was chaste, even a little hesitant but then she kissed him back and a frisson of electricity passed between them turning each kiss that followed more and more passionate. Sirius lost himself in the feel of her lips against his, their softness and firm but yielding pressure. She tasted like apples and English tea on the tip of his tongue, and she smelled – Godric she smelled good enough to eat. He felt her hands come up against his chest, delicately tracing the muscles there as her tongue explored his mouth. Gods her simple touch was reducing him to madness! He groaned into her mouth and she made a feminine sound of pleasure that went straight to his groin.

When they pulled apart both of them were breathing hard, and he looked into her eyes as he lifted a hand and slowly, reverently stroked her cheek with the back of his knuckles, swallowing hard. His touch was so gentle, his eyes so tender the moment almost felt more intimate than when they'd kissed.

"Sirius, what is this?" she said softly, captivated by his eyes.

"It's good," he answered honestly, his voice husky. His eyes dropped to her lips. "Can I kiss you again?"

"Yes please," she breathed, and he smiled as he dipped his mouth to hers again. The feel of his stubble scraping sensually against her soft skin and the scent that was all him – spicy, fresh, masculine – was making her lightheaded. Hermione pressed her palms against his chest, and without speaking, without one allowing their lips to leave the others, they moved together so that he was sitting on the sofa with her straddling his lap.

Completely, utterly ablaze, they continued kissing, achingly slow and exploratory. His fingers had snuck up under her top to the curve of her waist. She was so soft, smooth and fit perfectly in his hands. He could feel the rougher skin of her scar under one thumb. "You're perfect," he exhaled breathlessly between kisses. When she began rocking against him he grabbed her hips and puller her closer so her center brushed against his straining erection. It was like throwing petrol on an open fire. Suddenly his mouth was traveling down her jaw to suck on the skin of her neck. She had her fingers in his hair, pulling lightly and she was gasping as they pushed against one another.

Somewhere in a haze at the back of Sirius' mind, warning bells were going off. Too fast, he thought, they were going too fast and yet he had never felt more helpless to stop himself than he did in that moment.

He would never know if it was a blessing or curse from the gods themselves, what happened next. As though some deity had heard his panicked thoughts, there was a sudden "whoosh" sound and Remus and Tonks emerged from the Floo, not two feet from the entwined pair.  
There was a single, frozen, deer-in-the-headlights moment between the four of them, then Hermione scrambled off Sirius and he swore, grabbing the nearest cushion and placing it over his crotch in a hopelessly obvious move. Tonks, who was normally unflappable when it came to the subject of sex, apparently drew the line at seeing her cousin aroused. She held her palms up to the sides of her face like blinkers and walked out of the room.

Remus, on the other hand, was looking at the pair with a very uncharacteristic smirk. "Huh," he said. "Can't say I've ever seen a Chudley Cannons t-shirt have _that _effect before."

Sirius felt regret for every time he had ever poked, prodded and teased poor old Moony.

* * *

**A/N:** Ok, so I have no idea what warnings I should be putting on this fic as we go along. I felt this scene was pretty tame but I don't understand how to make the distinction between smut and lemons. If anyone can point me towards a resource/information that's actually clear on this, please PM me. Thanks!


	10. Chapter Ten: Are We?

****Disclaimer: ****All canon characters, places, plots and situations from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from this.

**Warnings: **Rated M for language, violence and scenes of a sexual nature.

**A/N:** Today's chapter brought to you late courtesy of South Africa's electricity crisis, wonky wifi, and me – cause I love ya'll. Happy that reviews for the last chapter were so positive, glad you all enjoyed it!

**chupeechan** Mariverus! I love it. Well, it's definitely better than Sevietta, lol.

**moremuseplease** I'm actually cringing at the idea of a double-date with Sirius and Severus. I think it'd be like locking two tom-cats in a room together. Not to say it can't happen ;)

**SuneID** Fanfic Ginny as Hermione's go-to-gal kind of makes sense but I don't think it would be that way, really. They're such different people and they've never had that relationship, and while Mari is a lot like Ginny in some ways, she also has a lot in common with Hermione. Who did you think Mari's secret lover might be? And of course Sirius can make even the Cannons look good!

**shealone** Is it dorky that I squeed with delight when I saw your review? Hope your house is still in one piece.

**gypsyfurface** Thanks for your help with the whole labeling thing. I will definitely be earning my lemons though, I think... :D

oOoOoOo

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

Please note this chapter may include scenes of a sexual nature, including implied sexual activity as well as highly descriptive language, so if that's not your thing, move along.

oOoOoOo

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Are We?  
**

oOoOoOo

"Join me for a drink, Pads," said Remus, glancing briefly at Hermione. Sirius looked from his best mate to Hermione and back. Was Moony being serious? Sirius went to Hermione, standing close to her and blocking Moony's view.

"Alright love?" he murmured, noting her flushed skin and shining eyes. Damn Remus for interrupting this! To his relief, she granted him with a small, private smile as she nodded.

"Late though," she said. "I should probably get to sleep. You go chat with Remus."

Sirius frowned. "You sure?" Hermione nodded before the both of them looked towards Remus, who then turned his face away, coughing politely. Good, thought Sirius. Cock-blocking mongrel. But then she was standing on tip-toe, her soft lips pressed to his cheek. Her breath was warm next to his ear when she said goodnight, and he was relieved when he managed to suppress a moan of frustration.

"Night, Remus," said the witch to his best friend, before leaving. Sirius watched her go, wishing he could have sealed the fragile bubble they'd just created around them with a kiss, a talk, _something._ Something more sure than a pash on the sofa. He sighed. He was just going to have to accept her response a few minutes before as a positive sign.

"This better be good," he snapped as he turned to his friend, but Remus was already pouring each of them a Firewhiskey in the dimly lit kitchen. "What's this about, Moony? In case you hadn't noticed, that was a bit of a delicate situation back there."

"How long has it been going on?" asked Remus

"What, the kissing? About ten minutes at a guess, I don't know, I wasn't watching the clock you know."

Remus granted him an unwavering look. Moony had always had that way of making sure he got your complete attention when he wanted it, and in that moment Sirius could completely understand how Professor Remus held his classes in check. He scrubbed his face with his hands before crossing his arms, and leaning against the breakfast bar. Something told him he was going to be here for a while.

"Mate, I hate to ask this but someone's got to. What are your intentions with Hermione?" Remus settled onto one of the tall breakfast stools.

Sirius was agog. "Pull the other one Remus, are you seriously playing dad after all the times you've been encouraging me to 'face my feelings?'"

"And what feelings would those be, Pads? Every time I've brought it up you've denied having feelings for her, said it was just physical attraction." Sirius opened his mouth but Remus held up a palm. "It's not that I think you don't have real feelings for her Pads, but if you really didn't, then it was fine as long as you weren't going to act on it. I'm trying to help you out here, I'm sure you wouldn't rather have this talk with Harry, would you?" Sirius grimaced at the thought. His godson was already his boss. He didn't think he could bear getting 'the talk' from him too.

Remus nodded. "So I need to hear it from you. You're my best mate but Hermione is like a sister to the rest of us and she doesn't need any more hurt in her life."

Sirius' heart sank. Moony thought he was bad for Hermione. No, that couldn't be right, Moony had _insisted_ that Sirius and Hermione could be good together. He used his wand to hastily throw up some silencing charms. "What do you want me to say Remus? You know I can't tell you I love her."

"I'm not asking you to," said Remus. Remus knew that for Sirius, love was a loaded word that muddled things. "I still need to know what you feel."

There was nothing like traumatising your cousin with your genitals and your best friend taking the piss with you while simultaneously stopping you from having a rather nice time with a woman you liked, then pulling rank to question you about your intentions for said woman. In for a penny, in for a pound, thought Sirius. Bouncing his leg hard in thought, he came to a decision and with a quick nod, downed the not unsubstantial glass of Firewhiskey Remus had poured for him before chasing it with another large swig straight from the bottle.

"Pads, that's-"

Sirius held up his hand while the whiskey burned its way down his throat, leaving a warmth in his belly. "No, don't interrupt me, you wanted to hear flowery shit Moony, I have to work my way there somehow," explained Sirius, and Moony's mouth snapped shut. There was a silence in the kitchen, the fire crackling low while the flames sent flickers of golden light over their skin. It was a while, and another two swigs of Firewhiskey before Sirius got up the nerve to speak.

"Okay," he said, looking at the fire, the floor, the bottle – anything except Moony's face. "Okay." He was bouncing his leg again.

"Pads-"

"Moony, you were right, I'm crazy about that woman," said Sirius over Remus, jabbing a finger in the general direction of the living room. "She's the exact opposite of anything I've ever cared about in the past. When I make her laugh, I feel like a million Galleons. And if she cries, _I'm_ a fucking mess inside." His voice wavered unbecomingly, but he soldiered on.

Now that he'd opened up, everything that had been brewing for the last few months between him and Hermione came pouring out of him. It was as though a dam wall had crumbled and now that he was talking, he couldn't stop. At that point, he wasn't even sure what was coming out of his mouth.

"Even when I make her spitting angry, Gods, she's beautiful," he said, shaking his head, laughing in disbelief at himself. "She's straight with me. Fucking clever, snarky and soft and she cares for me just as I am." He looked up at Remus. "Moony, when I see her with any of the children, I think…" He faltered. "I _think_, that maybe I want it, what you and Tonks have, what Harry has. Is that crazy? Me?" Remus shook his head, but Sirius was as much talking to himself now as to his mate.

"She's never tried to make me a better wizard, she's just believed that I can be from the moment she saw me. And now-" He smacked the counter with a fist, in frustration.

Remus, to his credit had not flinched, though he had never heard his friend speak this way before. He'd known that Sirius had feelings for Hermione, just not that they ran this deep, or that Sirius was so conflicted about them.

"Gods Moony, did I just fuck up in there? I swear it's the first time, it just happened. I just-" He swallowed. "I just couldn't hold back anymore. I couldn't. Gods I feel sick. I feel like I just caught the Snitch _and _like I've just been Avada'd at the same time. It's mental."

Remus chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't think you've messed up Pads. In fact I think you're doing just fine," he said, patting his friend on the shoulder. The werewolf yawned, stretching lazily. "Alright then, I'm off to bed. You should get some sleep too," he said.

"Is that it?" Sirius was confused.

"You told me everything I needed to hear," said the werewolf, with a secretive grin, before leaving the room.  
Sirius sat by himself for a while, trying to process the last few hours, from what had happened with Hermione, to Remus' reactions, to his own words – some of which he could not remember – and the Firewhiskey and adrenalin.

Eventually he made his way to bed. From the second-floor landing Hermione's bedroom door called to him like a beacon, and before he knew it he was standing outside the door, his fist raised to knock. He hesitated, and then firmly turned away.

He realised that if he went into her bedroom now, the inevitable would happen, and as much as he wanted that – which was _very _much – he wanted more to do things differently this life around. This was Hermione. Moony, that sneaky bastard, he realised, had not just wanted to ensure Hermione's well-being but had at the same time stopped Sirius from doing something he'd known the Animagus might regret. If Sirius was going to do this properly, he needed a little time to think.

* * *

Hermione spent the day at her desk loaded down with paperwork but with a small, smile coming and going helplessly on her lips as she remembered. She'd barely slept a wink after Sirius had kissed her, but she woke up feeling like she didn't need the sleep. He'd _kissed _her. Being interrupted by their housemates had been unfortunate, though in retrospect they were lucky it was only them, and not any of the other Order members. Also, she was glad they'd had some time apart to think on what they were doing. She knew that if they hadn't been interrupted, with their track record she would _not_ be thrilling herself with secret smiles all day.

Questions had flitted through her racing mind in the night, turning her stomach.  
_What were they doing?  
Was it just sex to him?  
Or did he want more?  
Could she do more?  
Could he?  
Would he regret it in the morning? _

The last question had been dealt with first, swiftly put to rest when he was there to capture her mouth in a kiss just as she was leaving her bedroom, showered and ready for the day. She'd been thrown off balance but this time, his hands on her waist and hers clutching his biceps had been remedy enough. His mouth tasted like mint toothpaste and the tickle of his stubble against her fresh skin had been heavenly. He kissed her like he was drowning and she was air, and for the first time in her life Hermione discovered that knees could actually go weak.

"Good morning", he'd said, his eyes soft on hers, glazed with pleasure. "Hi", she'd replied softly. He was here. He wasn't running.

Her mind drifted to the conversation they'd had in the kitchen that morning, just the two of them, well early before their housemates would be awake. She'd made the coffee while he'd scrambled eggs, stealing smiles throughout. And when they'd sat down at the breakfast bar, he'd taken one of her hands in his, rubbing a thumb over the soft skin on the back.

_"__I know we haven't spoken about this much," he said. "But I've never been in a proper relationship. I'm sure you could have guessed. I thought, for a long time, that it wasn't something I wanted. Hermione, that's changed with you." His stormy eyes on hers, coupled with his words made her breath catch. "Last night was… I only want to take our friendship further if we're both in it for more. This isn't just a physical thing," he reassured her. She tried to speak but he stopped her. "Just let me say this, will you?" His cheeks reddened slightly and her heart clenched even as she suppressed a smile. Sirius Black, vulnerable. "I can't promise you that I'll be the best at this because I've never done it before. I'm reckless and I say and do things I regret but I know I'd regret it more if I didn't tell you that I want to be with you. I want… if that's what you want too."_

He'd looked so anxious then, like a school-boy waiting to hear if he was in trouble or not.

_"__Yes," she said simply, breaking into a wide smile of delight. _

_He frowned when she said nothing more. "What, is that it? After my whole speech?" _

_"__I said yes, didn't I?" She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Sirius, I would like to try for something more with us." _

_"__I rather think that after my splendid soliloquy that you could at least-"_

_Her lips silenced him when she leaned it and kissed him sweetly, one palm braced against his chest. She could feel the sure thump of his heart beneath her hand and had to pull away to laugh at the surreality of it. Luckily he'd laughed too, each of their delight infectious to the other, and they both sat there smiling like idiots at each other over breakfast. _

By the time the Lupins had trooped down to the stairs to breakfast, the two of them were sitting beside one another, Hermione reading the newspaper while Sirius munched on toast. Although their housemates had seen them the night before, anyone looking at them in that moment would have only seen two close friends having breakfast together. Their silent agreement, simply by each knowing the other, was that for now, this was just between them.

And Mari, of course. She couldn't not tell Mari, and in any case, the moment her blonde friend had stepped into the office and seen her grinning at paperwork, the gig was up. "Lunch," she said. "You, me, and whatever delicious secret's got you looking like you swallowed a tank of Felix."

Hermione looked at her friend and burst out laughing. "You've got sex hair, by the way."

* * *

By the end of the week, Hermione was almost at her wits end. There were three things responsible for her current moodiness.

Firstly, she had new leads on her research that she was itching to get out and follow but the sheer amount of paperwork to complete before she did any of it was staggering. And boring. She remembered fondly the years of her youth, when research was something she did, not constantly prepared to do. Instead she had spent the week filling in meters of parchment with 'Aims' and 'Goals' and 'Outcomes'.

Secondly, she was a twenty-five year old woman with a thirty-seven year old boyfriend, and they were not having sex. In any other four-day-old relationship this would be a total non-issue for Hermione, but this wasn't just any relationship, this was _them_.

_She'd just arrived home from work and he pulled her into the library, shutting the door behind them and pushing her up against it, kissing her hungrily. "We've got five minutes," he whispered in between kisses, referring to an Order meeting taking palce at Grimmauld that evening. His body, hard against hers in more than one way, lit a fire inside her she'd been sure she'd never feel again. She threaded her fingers through the soft hair at the nape of his neck, shivering as his lips feathered kisses down her neck to mouth that spot just beneath her ear that made her breath catch. That's when she realised that his hands on her waist were pushing her away, not pulling her in. _

_"__Witch, you're going to be the death of me," he groaned. She was utterly confused and he must have seen in her eyes because he lowered his forehead to rest against her shoulder, breathing in like he could taste her skin that way. "Gods I want you," he said. "I just don't want to rush things. I've never done this before." _

Personally Hermione felt that the two of them had danced around one another for long enough that it could in no way be misconstrued as 'rushing', but she'd recognised the vulnerability in his voice.

She'd learned to let Sirius speak in moments like that if she wanted to get more out of him, but she knew his reasons already. He wanted to be sure. He wanted her to be sure. Sex was easy for him, and this wasn't just about sex. She couldn't find fault in his reasoning, but wondered how long they could truly hold out before the fire between them threatened to consume them whole.

_She tugged lightly at his hair until he pulled back from her shoulder so they could see one another. "Ok," she said. "We can try."_

She'd promised him that they would take things slow, though her respect for his considerate approach to their relationship was quickly being overshadowed by her desire to push him into a dimly lit alcove at the Ministry and have her way with him. She smiled wryly at the irony of getting together with a wizard known for his sexual proclivities, only to be denied that aspect of their relationship.

She'd agreed with him that they wouldn't go anywhere near a bedroom. With that privacy eliminated, and people tramping through the house at any given moment, there hadn't been many opportunities for a good snog, let alone anything else.

And finally, her third problem was currently sitting across the office from her. Baric the Moron, as Mari had christened their fellow Unspeakable, was still trying to get Hermione to forgive him. There had been flowers on her desk every morning that week, and on Wednesday he'd even left a box of Honeydukes finest chocolates, as if she would be stupid enough to touch the thing let alone consume it. That too, had burned spectacularly before she vanished it, leaving a sweet, charcoal-ish scent behind.

"Not the chocolate," Remus had moaned when she told them all at dinner that same evening. Sirius was unusually quiet after they'd disagreed on how best to address the situation. He wanted her to report it – escalate it, as Madam Edgecraft had offered – and she didn't. It was frustrating and ridiculous for her to go complaining to her Head about flowers, especially since Baric had taken his order to neither speak nor approach Hermione very seriously.

"It's rather annoying, " explained Hermione. "But I know what will happen if I take it further." Things had a way of getting out the more people there were involved, and she knew that if her co-worker were to suddenly leave the Department there would be all sorts of ridiculous publicity around the issue. If there's one thing Hermione really wanted, it was to stay out of the papers. The one article, naming them both and calling it a 'lovers spat' was quite enough. "I've been through this before, Sirius, the harder you push back, the more they write about you, and usually more rubbish."

They'd argued about it; she'd told him to stop playing protector and let her handle her own shit, and instead of flying off the handle like she'd expected, he'd dropped it instead. That made her nervous.

Harry, who'd only heard about what had happened at the pub the day after Sirius' graduation, tended to agree more with the Marauders take on it than Hermione's, but the younger wizard knew when to back off and give Hermione her space. After all, Hermione's best friend was no stranger to unwanted publicity.

"Why's he so persistent?" wondered Mari when Hermione and her walked into work together that morning to see the fifth bouquet of the week on her desk. Baric seemed hell bent on getting her forgiveness. "Do you think maybe he really is sorry?"

"It has nothing to do with feeling sorry for what he did, believe me," said Hermione dryly. "At best, he's worried about how this will impact on his social life. At worst, he wants to get back into my good graces to get closer to my friends. I don't know why I didn't see it before. Either way, he's got to give up some time, " said Hermione as she flicked her wand and sent another bouquet up in flames before vanishing it.

* * *

**A/N:** Hope that wasn't too dreary for anyone after the last chapter – there's action on the way soon!


	11. Chapter Eleven: Say Goodbye

**Disclaimer: **All canon characters, places, plots and situations from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from this.

**Warnings: **Rated M for language, violence and scenes of a sexual nature in later chapters.

**A/N: **I'm posting this much later than I would've liked, so no waffling in the A/N. Hope you enjoy, let me know your thoughts.

oOoOoOo

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

Please note this chapter may include scenes of a sexual nature, including implied sexual activity as well as highly descriptive language, so if that's not your thing, move along.

oOoOoOo

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Say Goodbye**

oOoOoOo

They'd had a tip-off from a witch living in a muggle suburb just outside of London. Sirius was assigned to the case, so he met up with the woman, a nervous little thing who insisted on meeting at a muggle café so far out of the way he almost got lost trying to get there. It was worth the trouble though; the witch said she'd noticed some strange comings and goings at a neighbours house.

"Shadows comin' and goin' at all odd time o' the nigh'," said the witch, leaning forward conspiratorially.

"How do you know it's not just your neighbours having visitors?" Sirius asked.

"Nah," said the witch, shaking her head so emphatically he thought her earrings were going to fly off. "It's my Kneazle, you see."

The witch told him that her pet Kneazle, had been acting out of character. Normally a confident cat, he'd stopped jumping the fence dividing her and her neighbour's property, which made no sense especially considering the creatures favourite haunts were in that direction. Sirius was glad he'd taken this call because if it was any other Auror they may have passed it off as a paranoid, nosey old woman seeing things, but when she mentioned her Kneazle, he immediately thought back to Hermione's old familiar. The creature had known he was innocent before anyone else believed it. His Animagus might be a dog, but after that experience he'd developed a healthy respect for cats. Well, Kneazles anyway.

He'd taken down the witch's details, and drawn up a briefing for the team. It'd already been presented and the mission was on for later that night. "We'll go in under the cover of darkness," Harry had decided. Now he was putting together a brief to follow up on another lead, this time further out west, and this is what he was doing when the chimes went that signaled lunch, and with a grin, he made his way down to ninth as stealthily as possible.

Working in the same building as Hermione had taken on a whole new level of distraction for Sirius. It was made harder by their decision to keep their relationship to themselves for the time being. Before, meeting for lunch had been a pleasant break in the day, and now, it was all he could do not to reach across the table and take her hand, or kiss her when she reapplied her lip balm after the meal. Especially now he knew exactly how that tasted!

He was in luck; the witch of his thoughts was making her way down the hall from the Department of Mysteries. He situated himself in a darkened recess, and when she walked by, yanked her in. She squeaked, drawing her wand on him but he caught her earlobe between his teeth and she melted under his touch instead. "Sirius?" she whispered, her eyes not yet accustomed to the darkness.

"Well I certainly hope so," he said, affronted. "You're not sneaking around in dark corners with any other devastatingly handsome wizards, are you?" He continued to tease her. "You know, I could have been anyone, what's happened to constant vigilance, Ms. Granger?"

In response, she pushed her body up against his and any smart quip he might have had on the tip of his tongue was swallowed by her kiss. He registered, vaguely, that it was an unfair rebuttal to his attempts to annoy her, but for some reason he wasn't inspired to complain. Instead he responded eagerly, unwilling to let her have the upper hand. He used his tongue to press against the seam of her lips until she opened her mouth to him, and then he slid his tongue in to taste her, nearly groaning out loud when she did the same in return. She moaned and shivered when he ran a hand up her thigh – Merlin he did love these work dresses and skirts she wore.

"Shh babe", he whispered, perfectly aware that he was making it incredibly difficult for her to do just that, as his wicked mouth danced along her neck.

"We have to stop," she panted. "We're at work," she said, though her hands continued their own wandering across his chest, around his neck and into his hair. He could have cried when she ran her fingers through his hair at the nape, her small nails scratching in a way he found unbelievably erotic.

"I don't know what you're talking about, I am working", he said breathlessly, his palms low on her hips, pulling her against him so they both gasped.

"You play unfair Mr. Black," moaned Hermione, not without a little frustration.

Just then a door opened and footsteps passed their hiding spot in the hall. They both froze, holding their breaths instinctively until the threat had passed. Hermione was attempting to disentangle herself from him.

"We've got to get to lunch, Harry will be waiting for us and he'll wonder what's taking so long," she argued. She was straightening her skirt and trying, unsuccessfully to tame her hair back into submission.

"Sorry," he said, grinning at her flushed appearance.

She snorted. "No you're not," she laughed.

"No I'm not," he agreed, laughing himself. Her kiss swollen lips were pulling him in.

"Oh no no," she said, as though reading his mind. "We are going to lunch and then I have a meeting and I am not going the rest of the day looking like I was almost shagged in a dark hallway."

"I could find us a nice broom cupboard if you prefer," he said in a gravelly voice, grinning when he saw the quirk of a smile on her lips.

"You're hopeless," she said, dropping her eyes. "Look at the state you've gotten yourself into." She smirked and sauntered out of the shadows as though nothing had happened, leaving him there to deal with his not so little problem himself.

"Shit."

Ten minutes later he joined Hermione and Harry at lunch.

"Where've you been?" Harry asked him. "I saw you leave the office the second the chimes went."

"Gotta log a lav break now Harry?" joked Sirius, watching Harry try to cover his faux pas.

"Charming," said Hermione.

"You not going to eat anything?" Harry asked his godfather. "We're on the field later, you should get something to eat now." Sirius looked towards the canteen offerings and wrinkled his nose.

Hermione rolled her eyes, digging into her bag and pulling out an apple that she tossed to Sirius.

"How's your morning been, love?" Sirius asked her, grabbing the apple and crunching into it. "Still getting gifts from lover-boy? What's that, three weeks now?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, while Harry sighed heavily between them. Baric's gifts had not ceased entirely, but at least they weren't every day now. Hermione was convinced that he would eventually give up, for lack of hope or galleons, she didn't much care.

"You know, I think I've had quite enough lunch, that turtle soup was very filling," Hermione said, gathering her things. "See you later Harry. Sirius." The witch dropped a kiss to Harry's cheek before walking off without a look back, even though she could feel the intensity of his stormy eyes watching her as she left.

She made her way back to her office frustrated, at least ten minutes before her lunch break was over. Sirius was behaving as though she wasn't capable of handling a fairly benign problem herself. What would he be like if it was actually a dangerous situation? Ridiculous, ridiculous wizard. She was glad she was heading off to Hogwarts in a couple of hours to do some research. Minerva had been quite generous in offering her room and board for the night should she decide to stay over, and right now that sounded like a brilliant idea.

Thinking about her research instantly put her in a better mood as excitement bubbled up. She was going to talk to the house elves at Hogwarts – after promising the elves via Minerva that she wasn't going to try to 'liberate' them. Really, were they ever going to let her forget that? Perhaps when they saw she was all grown up with other things on her mind.

House elves had always been able to do their own magic, magic comparable to wizards and sometimes even surpassing that. For example, they could Apparate even where wizards couldn't. And they did it all without a wand. Although the origins of wizards and other magical beings was shrouded in history, Hermione was sure that by studying the house elves, she might be able to understand how it was they channeled their powers so successfully without a wand, and why wizards could not, or at least, no longer could. She had a few theories and she was itching to narrow her information down.

* * *

Sirius was sweating so much that the shirt he was wearing underneath his Auror robes was stuck to his heaving chest. In front of him he had two of the hideaways in full body binds.

The bust had started off well – they'd had all exits covered and were ready when the others flushed the perps out of the house. What they hadn't realised was the number of war criminals hiding in the house, and they were overwhelmed, with spells being fired off in all directions. Some had gone this way, some that as they tried to escape, and in the fray Sirius had branched off with Davis and Jes to chase down four of them.

But now he was standing here, on a dark street lit only marginally by an ominously flickering lamppost and a very low Lumos, waiting for his crew. One minute the other two Aurors had been behind him, and then the four criminals had split off and Sirius had gone after these two while the other Aurors chased the others. The night was eerily quiet considering the action taking place in the area, but no distress wand flares had been sent up so he quelled his apprehension. This wasn't the best neighbourhood by any stretch of the imagination and it was well in the middle of the night. If any of the muggles in the houses had heard or seen anything, they'd probably just burrowed deeper into the safety of their own home. And if not, well. That's what the clean-up crew was for. As three minutes ticked into four, then five, he started to get restless with adrenalin. He couldn't just stand around in the street of a muggle neighbourhood with two grown men stiff as boards at his feet, but neither could he leave his team-mates in such a uncertain situation.

Moving back and forth, he eventually shoved his hand into his robes and pulled out the portkey that would take him and the perps straight to lock-up in the Ministry, where more Aurors were waiting anxiously for the new arrests, hesitating. All he had to do was grab both suspects and touch the black cube wrapped up in it's cloth and they'd be out of here. Just as he was about to do so, the hair on the back of his neck stood up and he turned to see three figures come tumbling out of a side-alley, knocking over bins of rubbish into the street. With the light being what it was, he couldn't tell if it was two Aurors and a perp, or the other way around, but he leapt into action driven by instinct. He turned to his captives, pushed them together with a temporary sticking charm, and, prying open the fist of one of them, pushed the uncovered black square into the man's hand. In a blink, they were gone, leaving Sirius free to get into the skirmish. Spells were shooting back and forth; in a pool of lamplight he caught site of both his teammates battling one perp. Whoever this guy was, he was putting up a good fight. Flashes of different colours and intensities were shooting from the perp's wand, and Sirius knew that some of them were dark magic.

As he returned spells at top speed, throwing off the perp, he wondered who it was. They had a list of suspects, but it was hard to tell in the light and he suspected this was one of the 'big fish' on their wanted list. He was fighting like the hounds of hell were on him, and might've well have been, thought Sirius, grinning to himself even as he dodged a spell that went into a mailbox, exploding it.

The perp was getting tired. His moves were getting slower and slower, and Jes and Davis were advancing on him, Sirius just a short away behind, when it happened. He felt a sharp, intense pain go through his left arm, and then the ground was coming up to meet him and everything went dark.

* * *

Hogwarts was exactly the way Hermione remembered it in happier pre-war years. Somehow though, it felt smaller than it had then, but then again, she was no longer a child. She'd gone home as planned, and packed some overnight things before taking the Floo to Remus' private quarters. The werewolf was waiting for her arrival right on time, and laughed at the anticipatory excitement on her face as she stepped back into the old castle.

"Now that's a face I remember well," he said, holding out a hand as she stepped out of the fireplace, dusting off her robes. "But it's been a few years since I last saw it," he said, smiling warmly. Hermione beamed back in response; absolutely nothing could break her good mood right then. She was back in the field, actually doing research, and she was back in the place that held so many good memories, as well as unpleasant ones. It was the good though, that flowed back to her as Remus and her made their way through the castle. Remus had a free, and was happy to walk about with Hermione as she took in the once-familiar sights and sounds of her childhood.

The moment they'd ascended from his rooms, they walked past a group of first-years, and Hermione couldn't believe that she, Harry and Ron had once been that small. One little girl with exceptionally large brown eyes was looking at her, and Remus introduced her to the group as 'Unspeakable Granger'. Hermione tried to hold back her amusement as the children broke out in hushed, excited whispers, and Big Eyes eyes grew even larger.

"Come," said Remus. "Minerva should be back from her appointment now and we're to have tea with her, she insisted."

"And the elves after?" asked Hermione.

"Yes," said Remus, amused. They made their way to the Heads Office. "So you and Pads eh?" he said, and Hermione hoped that her cheeks weren't giving her away. As mad as she was at her Marauder, it was still a novelty to talk about their budding relationship with one of their friends, let alone Remus, Sirius' best mate. It was strange to suddenly be 'the best friend's girlfriend' as well as a friend and former pupil to the wizard walking beside her.

"Yes, me and Sirius," she said, not really sure what ought to be said in a situation like that. It was the first time Remus had spoken directly to her on the subjectI. "Do you approve?" she asked quietly, looking up at her companion.

Remus startled. "Not that it should make any difference – you're both adults – but yes. Of course." He grinned.

"Really?" said Hermione, smiling back. "Age aside, you don't think we're too different to work?"

"You tell me," said Remus. "I'm quite a bit older than Tonks, and I'd say we were quite different from one another, but it's seemed to work out." His lips twitched.

He did make a good point.

They reached the gargoyle and Remus whispered "Ragdoll" to access the stairs.

Tea with Minerva was another surreal experience. It wasn't that Hermione hadn't seen her old Professor in the years before – in fact, they had kept in regular written correspondence – but rather being in that particular office again, that particular tea-set and that painting of Dumbledore smiling down beatifically from the wall behind the desk. They spoke about Hermione's life as well as what was going on in the school. Just as she'd relaxed there came a knock on the door.

"Come in!" said McGonagall, and the door opened to admit one Professor Severus Snape. His eyes widened just a fraction when he saw Hermione there, before settling back into it's unaffected, dour expression. Hermione forced herself to suppress the smile that was threatening to appear. It was hard to take Severus' demeanor seriously when she knew he'd been shagging Mari in the storage room at the Ministry. And then there was the fact that he knew she knew, and she knew he knew she knew. She sighed happily at the tiny signs of discomfort she saw.

Severus stayed to discuss something quickly with Minerva while Hermione and Remus paged through a photo album, and when he was done, the wizard left the office, bidding its occupants farewell. "Oh, and Hermione," he drawled. "Do give my regards to that mongrel of yours," he said with a smirk, disappearing through the door.

Remus shot her a quizzical look, but Hermione realised she couldn't actually tell him without outing Mari or explaining how it was Severus knew about Sirius. She shrugged, relieved when Minerva squealed aloud at a photograph and diverted their attention.

Meeting with the elves was a singular experience; Hermione must have spent a good four hours down in the kitchens and elf-quarters – which were actually quite nice, nothing like Kreacher's nest in the Grimmauld kitchen – chatting with the elves and making notes.

Eventually her growling stomach (she'd drawn the line at having them feed her throughout) and the business of the elves as they went into work mode, drew her up to the Great Hall for some dinner. To her amusement and embarrassment, she was sat at the teacher's table, overlooking the students. After dinner they retired to Remus' quarters for a drink, and by that time Hermione was falling asleep on her feet, so she bid her friend goodnight and went to her quarters. She sunk into the bed gladly, dreaming about the research report she was going to put together the next day.

* * *

At seven-am the next morning Sirius came through the Floo into Grimmauld alone; Remus, Harry and Tonks had met him at St. Mungos but fortunately his injuries were not as bad as they looked, and he'd been sent home by Harry with a firm order to spend a couple of days recuperating.

They hadn't caught the perp who'd got him from the back while he was assisting his team-mates. The other wizard had been subdued and arrested, but whoever had assaulted Sirius had fled, seeing as his or her attempts to rescue their fellow had fallen flat. All in all there'd been six perps arrested, all lower order Death Eaters, except for the one that had put up a fight, and the one that'd escaped. They'd caught Thicknesse, finally, which was at least a balm to Sirius' disappointment at losing the other and being injured.

He was looking forward to getting home. Remus told him that Hermione had gone straight to the house, and he fully intended on kissing the daylights out of his sexy witch when he got there. There was nothing like potential death to encourage the libido. Which nobody had told Hermione, clearly, because said sexy witch came at him so hard he almost fell back into the fireplace.

"Ow! What the fuck, woman!" Sirius used his good arm to hold the scrabbling witch away from him. As if someone had flicked a switch, all the fight went out of Hermione and like a feral cat that had given itself up to death, she sagged limply against his chest. Sirius hesitantly reach his good arm around her, squeezing her to him, and when he was sure she wasn't going to attack again, placed a kiss to her unruly hair and waited.

Eventually she pulled away, looking up at him shamefaced.

"You scared me," she said. "I was fast asleep, then I get woken up by Remus banging on my door yelling about you being hurt. I thought I-" Her voice got tight and he knew she was struggling to hold back tears. "And I didn't even say goodbye to you at the Ministry and I thought- I thought, what if he-"

"Sweetheart…" He pulled her closer. "I'm here. Hey, it's okay. I'm pretty good at my job you know," he tried to joke, but one look at her red-rimmed eyes told him she wasn't in the mood.

"Love, you know I do this job. It's part of the job, getting hurt sometimes. And I'm fine, look." He motioned to his left arm, bound up in a muggle sling. "It's not a hundred percent, Longbottom said it was probably because of the dark magic. But it'll get better, and you can't even see the bruise where I fell on my head."

For some reason his words seemed to have the opposite effect on his girlfriend, and she glared at him, now adding incredulity to the list of emotions flitting across her sweet face.

He groaned. "Love, I'm exhausted. My head hurts, my arm hurts, and now my chest hurts a little. Please can we talk about whatever it is I've done wrong later?" he pleaded. Her whiskey eyes looked up into his and he wondered, not for the first time and probably not the last, what was going on in her mind. She put a cool palm to his cheek, dragging his mouth down to hers. He could feel the apology and relief in her kiss.

"I have to go out again today," she said softly. "I haven't yet wrapped up at Hogwarts, and when I'm done I've got to go see Olivander. It was difficult getting an appointment with him since he's retired," she said, apologetically. "Will you be alright here by yourself?" The concern in her eyes knocked him off his feet and tugged on his heartstrings.

"Of course, love. You go do you brainy wandless crazy-magic thing and I'll be here when you get back. Who knows, if you're a good witch you can even be my nurse," he said suggestively, extra pleased with himself when he caught her tell-tale blush, even as she rolled her eyes.

After she'd left, Sirius made his way up to his bedroom, longing for his bed. He did feel a lot better than he'd expected, hearing of his injuries, but he was still exhausted. It'd been a long day the day before, and had gone well into the night. He was also eager to take some of the potions that Longbottom had sent home with him, something for the pain and something to speed up the healing of his arm.

As he passed Hermione's bedroom door though, he heard a sharp tapping noise. _You've just missed her,_ he thought, opening the door. Sure enough, an owl was rapping against the window, a sizeable package in its grip as it hovered with difficulty. Sirius opened the window, giving the owl a scratch and a handful of owl treats from the bowl on the sill and watched it fly off before he turned to the package in his hand.

His blood boiled when he saw what it was. The bloody nerve.

* * *

**A/N:** Eek!


	12. Chapter Twelve: Risky Business

****Disclaimer: ****All canon characters, places, plots and situations from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from this.

**Warnings: **Rated M for language, violence and scenes of a sexual nature.

**A/N:** Upside of late post means you get two chapters in one day! I hope this chapter answers some of your questions. Thanks again for all the reviews and feedback, it's _so_ much appreciated.

oOoOoOo

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

Please note this chapter may include scenes of a sexual nature, including implied sexual activity as well as highly descriptive language, so if that's not your thing, move along.

oOoOoOo

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: Risky Business  
**

oOoOoOo

It was plain white box held together by a red ribbon and a floral card. Something about the thing had felt off when he looked down at it, and immediately his Auror instincts went into overdrive, Baric's smarmy face flashing in his mind.

"Now this is taking the bloody piss!" he snapped in disbelief. The utter gall of that toad! He stormed out of the room, nearly crushing the box in his hand. His head was pounding. When he got to the living room he threw a pinch of Floo powder into the fireplace and stuck his head in.

"Harry, you there? Come home. Now."

Having made the call, he slammed the box onto the table, awkwardly ripping the ribbon off with his free arm, and tossed the lid aside. If he could possibly get even more angry than he currently was, it was the contents of this gift that did it. Lying in satiny fabric was an exquisite dagger. The handle was made with intricate filigree work, inlaid with gold and precious stones. The blade itself looked sharp, if slightly rusty – an antique? – but the thing that sent him over the edge, causin the bubble of fury in his chest to explode, was the darkness that Sirius could almost _smell _rolling off the object. What the hell was this bloke playing at, sending Hermione something like this? Anything at all, for that matter – and now to her home? Did he think she'd accept it that way? Did the idiot have no common sense?

The Floo went and Harry entered the room, worry etched on his features, moving quickly with the alertness of a trained Auror. "Sirius? What's happened?"

Sirius turned to face his godson, jabbing a finger at the gift. "That. That's what's fucking happened. That bloody arsehole isn't satisfied with harassing Hermione at work, now he's sending gifts here. And take a look at the Harry, you tell me what the fuck kind of gift that is, hmm?"

He was in full blown tantrum mode, agitated beyond anything Harry had seen for a very long time. "Calm down," he said to his godfather, as he peered into the box. He could also sense the darkness, and felt some of Sirius anger roll through him at the thought of Hermione being sent something like this, and by that wizard who just simply could not take no for an answer. Quelling his ire, he used his wand to open the small card.

"There's no name on here," he said loudly. "We'll take it back to the Department and have it tested-," he said, turning around only to see the flash of the Floo. "Goddamit Sirius," he said, hastily using his wand to gather the box and its contents as evidence. He slipped it into a magically sealed bag and raced after his godfather.

* * *

It was Baric's unlucky day, for the Unspeakable happened to be uncharacteristically late for work. This meant that as Sirius came barreling through one Floo, several yards down the line, Baric was entering through another. Like a fawn that senses the presence of a predator, the young wizard suddenly looked up and into the eyes of what could arguably be a mad-man. Sirius Black was storming straight for him. He squeaked, grabbing his wand, but the spell was hardly uttered before the Auror was on top of him. Before anyone had even noticed, a brawl had broken out in the Ministry atrium.

In all fairness, Sirius would later (much, much later) argue, it could hardly be called a brawl when one wizard was getting the magic kicked out of him by the other, but seeing as several witches and wizards got pulled into the frey to intervene, it had attracted about as much attention as a brawl.

"Stop harassing her," he was shouting, when Harry entered the atrium through the Floo. He groaned, feeling as though he could quiet easily pull all his hair out at that moment. _Bloody idiot_, he thought. His godfather's voice carried across the floor. "If you send her one more thing, so help me Circe, I won't need a wand for what I'll-" His voice cut off abruptly as the Silencio Harry cast reached him. He certainly didn't need to add threats to what was already an absolute mess of a situation.

With another sharp wave of his wand Harry sent Sirius flying off his victim, sliding across the polished floor to some distance away. Baric was bleeding through the nose and looked disheveled; beside him and around him were the contents of his bag, squashed notes and what looked to have once been a rather expensive box of chocolates. At least he wasn't unconscious, though Harry, as several wizards stepped forward to help the man up. At that point a mediwitch had arrived to attend to him.

Sirius on the other hand, was getting no such care. "You've made me do this," muttered Harry angrily under his breath. He cast a full body bind on his godfather before levitating him behind him directly to the Auror Department. Lowering Sirius' onto the ground in one of their interrogation rooms, he went out, locking the door behind him, and was gone for some time before he returned, his expression even more grim. Tonks was with him.

"What the-" spluttered Sirius as he was released from the spells.

"I could ask you the same thing, Sirius!" yelled Harry, shocking Sirius into silence. "You just stormed into the Ministry and attacked, without provocation, a fellow wizard – and very publicly, I might add – while dressed in the robes and recognised as a qualified Auror."

"You weren't there, you didn't see the way he spoke to her, the way he _touched_ her Harry," objected Sirius. Tonks was holding her face with both palms. "Sending stuff to the house? That takes the cake Harry, at least now he won't-"

"Baric didn't sent the dagger," cried Harry, pacing. "If you had waited and done things the right way, you would have known that. As it is, you've put your badge at risk, shown yourself to be a reckless fool, and you've put this department in a poor light, Sirius, not to mention what it looks like when you're my godfather!"

"Wha- Who sent it then?" asked Sirius, confused.

"We ran the diagnosis spells," said Tonks, calmly, bringing down the tension in the room only slightly. "It was an illegal portkey," she said grimly. "The Magical Objects department are still looking at it, trying to figure out where it was supposed to go."

Sirius felt physically ill, and terribly confused. The knuckles on his right hand had started to ache, and there was sharp pain coming from his injured arm, which he'd managed to wrench again. Harry said the parcel wasn't from Baric. Godric Circe and Merlin, he'd beat on an innocent wizard. Everything Harry said hit him hard. He was shocked into silence.

"We need to keep an eye on Hermione," Harry was saying, pacing again. "I don't want her to know about it. As far as anyone is concerned you came into this building an assaulted Baric on a whim," said Harry, his glittering green eyes daring Sirius to object.

"We're ninety-nice percent sure it was Greyback, possibly acting with someone else. He was the only one present at the Manor when Hermione was tortured-" Something in Sirius chest twisted painfully. "-who is still alive, and hasn't been cleared," said Harry.

"Dagger, filigree handle, Black insignia on the rear bolster," said Tonks, calling attention to Sirius' lack of observation. "Definitely belonged to Bellatrix. And there was dried blood on the blade. Hermione's magical signature. It was the blade Bellatrix used on her and there's no doubt it's Greyback. It was a message."

Sirius' blood ran cold.

"What's the next step?" he asked immediately, and if his hands were fisted in rage, he didn't notice.

"Not this one, mate," said Harry, shaking his head emphatically.

"What? Harry, why-"

"You're too close to this one Sirius."

"What the fuck are you talking about Harry, she's your friend too!"

There was suddenly something like sympathy in Harry's eyes. He opened his mouth, then paused.

"It's still fresh for you", said Harry, finally. "I've had years to get my head around these things, I can take emotion out of it if I need to. You can't."  
"Fuck! Fuck Harry, that mongrel deserves to-"

"Exactly!", hissed Harry, the sympathy being replaced by anger. "You know what happens in the heat of passion, you lose your head for even one minute – that's how accidents happen! Look at what just happened out there! And we haven't even begun to deal with that fiasco yet! You're reckless, and it's a problem, Sirius." he said, scrubbing his tired face with a hand.

Guilt ran through Sirius at the word. Reckless. Like he'd been when he'd gotten himself thrown into the Veil, robbing Harry of his godfather again.

"I'm telling you guys because you're the only ones I can one-hundred percent trust right now, and I don't want Hermione to find out. I don't want her to be afraid, we are _this _close to ending this bastard. Sirius, you're closest to her. You can keep an eye on her." Harry got up, and said something to Tonks, but Sirius was still letting his words sink in. "Harry am I supposed to just sit around and twiddle my fucking thumbs? And not tell Hermione that we know this bastard is getting close? I want to do something, I want-"

"Sirius!" Harry's voice was firm and authoritative. He looked uncomfortable. "You. Are. Not. On. This. Case. This is non-negotiable, and if I so much as see you sniffing around where you shouldn't be, it'll be your badge, if it isn't already. Go to my office and take the Floo home," he ordered. "And stay there," he pressed. "I need to go speak to the Minister before this blows up in our faces."

Sirius worked his jaw, breathing hard, but left the room the second the door was unlocked.

Harry watched him go. "Does he even realise he's in love with her?" he said, exasperated.  
Tonks shook her head. "He's hard-headed, my cousin is. I reckon he's never really had the chance to be soft before."

* * *

"Sir, Auror Black was injured on a case yesterday. His arm was broken with a dark spell and he hit his head very hard when he fell. It's my professional opinion that he is acting uncharacteristically, perhaps due to this injury and should be judged for his actions accordingly." Neville Longbottom had done many a dubious thing for the Order in his time, but he never expected to be standing in front of Kingsley, blatantly embellishing his assessment as a Healer.

The fact that the Minister was also a member of the Order and thus privy to the actual facts, only made it more nerve-wracking. It was, in the words of his grandmother – rest her soul – a complete clusterfuck if he'd ever seen one. Sirius was lucky that Neville had been the Healer to treat him at St. Mungos the day before, or this wouldn't even be a possibility. He looked sideways at the Auror in question.

Baric had decline to charge Sirius for two reasons: With such a public act in which he came off as the victim, his social status was renewed. Also, he was terrified that Sirius would come back for him. This, combined with Neville's testimony and the harassment to which Baric had admitted, saved Sirius' arse.

"You're suspended for a week and on desk duty for another after that," said Harry.

"Harry," objected Sirius weakly. He'd done this, gotten himself in a position where once again, he could not be of help.

"Please, _please _don't even try to complain about this Sirius," said Harry. I'm your boss, I can't be seen as being lenient with you, and quite frankly even this is stretching it badly. You're lucky you haven't lost your badge, but I can't afford to have you on the field like this. You go home."

Sirius sighed heavily.

"Oh, and you might want to start thinking about how you're going to explain this to Hermione," Harry said, watching his godfather blanch at the realisation. "And remember, she doesn't know anything about the package. As far as anyone is concerned, you lost the plot and attacked Baric after weeks of hearing about him harassing your friend. Play up the head injury if you must."

He turned away from Sirius then, and Sirius knew he was dismissed.

* * *

"He did what?" shrieked Hermione and Sirius, ensconced in the library, winced. He could hear Remus, Harry and Tonks all trying to placate the witch, but he could tell by the sound of her footsteps that she was pissed. "Where is he?" she demanded.

He put down the Daily Prophet afternoon edition. There, in a rather large article on the second page – somehow he didn't think Hermione would be placated by it at least not making front page news – the incident of the morning was in black and white for all to read about.

_Ministry workers and visitors watched in horror this morning as the recently badged Auror Black – who may be better known as the formerly wrongly accused convict, Sirius Black – accosted another Ministry worker who was entering the building. _

_"__He came out of nowhere," said a source, who preferred to remain anonymous. "Just leapt onto the young man and started beating him." _

_"__Brute," commented Mrs. Hilda Joleskin, who was visiting the Ministry that morning to apply for her senior citizen allowance. "Not once in my hundred and twelve years have I seen a wizard forget his wand like that. Behaving like a crazed muggle!" _

_Our sources say that Mr. Black attacked Mr. Baric, an Unspeakable and former lover to Ms. Hermione Granger, on behalf of Granger. It is rumoured that after the bar attack last month, in which it is alleged Mr. Baric verbally and physically attacked Ms. Granger, her co-worker continued to harass Ms. Granger in the workplace. What the exact nature is of the incident that prompted Mr. Black to attempt retribution now, we are unaware of. A source mentioned that Mr. Black, as recently as yesterday, was injured in an Auror bust, where he obtained a head injury. _

_Mr. Baric has declined to comment, but sources reveal that the beaten wizard has chosen not to press charges against Black. This reporter wonders if this is truly a sign of Mr. Baric's guilt in the matter on which Black called him out, or if he has been threatened into silence. It is a sad day when our own Department of Magical Law Enforcement can't be trusted. _

The library door opened with a push and Hermione stormed in. Her neck and face were red and in any other situation Sirius would be taking a moment to admire just how beautiful she looked. This time, he was just bracing himself for what was coming.

"I can't believe you!" she yelled. "Why the hell did you do that?"

"I'm sorry-"

"No, you can't I'm sorry yourself out of this! You punched another wizard, Sirius. An unarmed, _innocent _wizard."

Sirius was tempted to argue Baric's 'innocence', but wisely bit his tongue.

"And in front of everyone? In the Ministry? Where we both work? What the hell were you thinking?"

And there it was, the question.

"He was harassing you," said Sirius. Did she really think he'd just peeled off spontaneously to do what he had? Clearly so. Clearly it was what was expected of him, and could he blame her?

She jabbed a finger at him. "I told you I could handle it. I told you to let me handle it. Now you've had your retribution, Sirius, was it worth it?"

It didn't matter to him whether that creep Baric was involved with the dagger or not. He'd been out of line to begin with and Sirius couldn't say he wasn't somewhat satisfied that the little toad would be staying far away from Hermione. Of course, he wasn't going to say any of this to his girlfriend. No, he was going to play stupid and sorry and beg, primarily because he had actually caused her pain the form of that awful article in the Prophet. He'd embarrassed himself and Harry, making a spectacle like he had. But after learning that her life was in danger, it was imperative that he remained close to her if there was a chance in hell he could keep her safe.

"Hermione, I'm sorry love. Please," begged Sirius.

"I didn't need you to do that, Sirius! You've embarrassed me, you've embarrassed yourself, and Harry is beside himself! You've caused the Aurors ill repute and now you're suspended! Please do tell me how you're going to protect anyone from anything when you can't even be in the field chasing actual perpetrators?!"

The events of the morning hit him and the weight of everyone's disappointment and disregard settled onto his shoulder. Hermione's, now that she was here and expressing it so clearly, was the heaviest of all after Harry's. As though he hadn't embarrassed himself enough, he felt wetness on his cheeks. _Fuck! _

Hermione's voice faltered, and she found herself sitting tentatively beside her boyfriend. He had dipped his head into his hands and was sobbing in that eerily silent way of his. She was furious; spitting mad, actually, and horribly embarrassed, for herself and the inevitable publicity, as well as for Sirius and for Harry, whose professionalism would be in question, all because he was reckless and couldn't leave well enough alone. She was also mad that he had ignored her need to take care of the situation herself, in her way.

Seeing his genuine misery though, had taken the edge off her anger. Sirius was not a crier, not the type to manipulate with feigned emotion. She could tell he was embarrassed by the angle of his body towards the fire, away from her. His hair was hanging like a curtain, blocking his face. Her heart ached and she pulled him into her arms, relieved when he came willingly.

"I'm really sorry love. It was stupid and short-sighted and typical of me," he mumbled. She frowned.

"This can't happen again," she said softly. "You need to trust me to take care of myself. And you need to learn to control that anger." He nodded against her shoulder, feeling guilty immediately that he was now keeping the news of dagger from her. He was torn between telling her, and following Harry's orders. Remembering Harry's insistence, how disappointed his godson had looked, he couldn't do it. He would do what Harry had said; he would stay close to Hermione, be there for her, watch out for her. It was the least he could do, especially since he was on suspension and desk duty. This way, he would be useful.

"Are you alright?" he asked, pulling away to look at her anxiously.

"Yes," she said, shooting a look at the newspaper behind him. "It's not like this is first time I've had rubbish printed about me and my friends."

He remained silent on that, knowing that not much of what had been written this time at least, was rubbish.

She was looking directly into his eyes and he was blown away by the depth of hers. "I'm still angry, Sirius."

He nodded, contrite. "You take all the time you need."

"What about what I want?" she asked playfully, lightening the atmosphere, before pulling his face down to hers. The kiss was soft, light, and Sirius felt like her fingers were touching him gently all over. Why did she have this effect on him?

* * *

"Mate." Remus heard his best friend's voice as he was heading up the stairs to bed. It was rather late and the werewolf had just come home from a long day marking essays at the school. "Um, do you mind – could you – I need to talk," said Sirius. He was sitting in the kitchen, illuminated only by the dim light of the fire. Remus wasn't surprised when he saw the Firewhiskey bottle in his friend's hands, but just the fact that Sirius had approached him to talk was progress.

He settled onto another chair, letting his own easy actions coax his friend to speak. Sirius took a few sips of his drink.

"I'm terrified that I'll lose her, that I won't be able to protect her or keep my promises to her. Am I just bollocks at relationships? And I'm an Auror now, things are getting dicey with the resurgence? What if I die? It just feels like there are so many ways I could hurt her and I don't have a bloody clue what to do to stop that from happening." He broke off.

Remus cleared his throat.

"Pads, I know you said you never want to hear any details about me and and your cousin, but there's something I need you to know." Sirius had gone still, listening, and Remus took that as his assent.

"When I fell for Dora it was the best and the worst time of my life. I was unemployable, covered in scars and a half-breed. I had nothing to offer a beautiful young woman with her life all before her. And yet she wanted me as I was, and I was ashamed to say, I was too weak to say no. Then the war was fully upon us, and Dora was pregnant. Gods I hated myself," he said bitterly, remembering.

"Then in the final battle, when we lost sight of one another for hours and she nearly got killed… heartache, even the anticipation of it… there are no words for the terror and regret I felt those long hours without her, not knowing if my wife, the mother of my son, was alive or not. Feeling responsible. It was stupid, Pads. Because she made her choices much as I did. Took me a long time to get over that. Thank Merlin we came out of it stronger. Now, when I look at my wife, my son, the life I have now – I can't bring myself to be sad that we both took that risk together. You need to decide what you want, and let Hermione make that decision for herself too." He looked quickly to make sure Pads hadn't passed out on him, but his friend looked sober as ever.

"The thing is, Pads, there's no guarantee. Loving someone, letting them love you, it's all risk. As long as I've known you, you've never shied away from taking risks, and yes, sometimes they get you in trouble. But I've also seen you risk yourself for others. Maybe it's time to decide if a happy life is worth the risk of a few growing pains along the way." He looked meaningfully at his friend.

"Fuck Moony, they should've given you Dumbledore's hat", Sirius laughed, his throat tight. Remus smiled at him and approached, throwing an arm around his friend in a warm hug. Sirius patted Remus on the back a little awkwardly.

The last thing Remus thought before he tumbled into bed beside the love of his life was that for the first time in a long time, he felt there was a chance for Pads to have the life he deserved. He only hoped his friend would take the risk.

* * *

**A/N:** Oh Sirius.


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Better Together

****Disclaimer: ****All canon characters, places, plots and situations from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from this.

**Warnings: **Rated M for language, violence and scenes of a sexual nature.

**A/N: **You lucky fishies. I may not be able to post tomorrow, so here's yet another chapter! Hope this one keeps you satisfied until the next installment ;) As always, reviews and feedback would be really appreciated. It's motivating knowing there are readers out there waiting for the next bit, and what you think about the plot/story/characters etc.

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**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

Please note this chapter may include scenes of a sexual nature, including implied sexual activity as well as highly descriptive language, so if that's not your thing, move along.

oOoOoOo

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**Chapter Thirteen: Better Together  
**

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Sirius wasn't an Auror for nothing. Well, a suspended Auror, but still, if there was one thing he could do, it was keep secrets. Keeping the dagger from Hermione was difficult but after the scene he'd caused with Baric, her nightmares and the hard work she'd been putting into her research, he agreed with Harry. Though things were still tense between him and his godson, he had to agree that it was one less thing for Hermione to worry about that she couldn't control.

When he wasn't with her and she was leaving the house, he was to send a Patronus to Harry and she would be followed by an Auror to keep watch.

Instead he focused on making himself available, which was easy since he was at home for a full week, twiddling his thumbs. Without really talking about it, before or during, Hermione was making more use of her flexible work situation, which just happened to mean that Sirius and her were able to spend some quality time together. Just not in the house.

He could tell that Hermione was frustrated with the boundaries on their physical relationship, not least of all his fault for being all too complicit in letting situations ramp up to the very edge of even his own will power before pulling away. The upside of being away from the house and having a bit of time together was that they could actually go on 'dates'. They had to, of course, be extremely discreet about it, especially after what had happened at the pub and the Ministry. This meant staying well away from Wizarding London, and they both enjoyed the change.

Sirius, because he had always had a fascination for Muggle culture, from the minute he found out how much his mother and father hated it, as a child. Though Harry had been raised muggle as well, any time the two of them spent together tended to be in the magical world. With Hermione though, he saw things from a new perspective.

Hermione enjoyed it because it was familiar, benign, and allowed her to escape for a little while from the troubles of their world. She liked the idea of being just another couple on the high street.

Sirius liked seeing Hermione at ease. It reminded him of times earlier in the year, before the tension had ramped up.

"What about these?" asked Hermione, holding up a pair of trainers. They'd decided to get Harry muggle gifts for his birthday, which was in a few days time. To celebrate Harry had opted for a small dinner at Grimmauld, saying that the celebrations would probably extend into Sunday lunch at the Burrow anyway.

"They're that's trendy," said Sirius. "And I know exactly what would go great with them. This!" He pulled his hand from behind his back, showing Hermione a long, tailored black coat. He was smiling from ear to ear and Hermione could see the little boy in him.

"That's brill," she said. "He'll look really smart in that."

"I know!" said Sirius unabashedly pleased with his decision. Hermione couldn't fault her wizard as he did have a good fashion sense. She stepped up close to him while he was inspecting the coat.

"Oh hello there," he said cheerily when he spotted her smiling up at him. Without hesitation he leaned down and kissed her, adding a peck on the tip of her nose for good measure. Godric bless the muggles and the anonymity they provided.

"You smell so good," complained Hermione under her breath. Sirius was inordinately cocky.  
"What's that you say Ms. Granger?" he teased.

"I said, I smell food. I'm hungry," said Hermione, wiping the self-satisfied grin off his face. She smirked, biting her lower lip and he smiled back in admiration. On a whim he raised his hand, stroking her cheek with her knuckles. His heart felt full, a strange, not quite comfortable sensation. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her full bottom lip and widened his eyes when she kissed it.

"I um, I think we should go get something to eat then, don't you?" he said, heading towards the cashier. He threaded his fingers through hers, loving the flush that came to her cheeks by such a simple touch.

"So how's the research going?" Sirius asked Hermione as they shared tea at a café.

Hermione's eyes lit up immediately. "Really, really interesting! Practically, I've not made too much more progress. I'm able to do a few things now quite easily compared to several weeks ago, but I don't see what I'm doing differently. I suspect it's just the training."

"What, like a muscle?" said Sirius, popping a finger pastry into his mouth. "The more often you've used it, the easier it is to perform that action?"

"Yes actually, that's a good metaphor. Meeting with the elves was really eye-opening. I really do think that if they wanted to, house-elves could throw a total revolution and we'd be nearly powerless in comparison."

"I really hope you didn't suggest this to them," said Sirius dryly, reminding of her liberation hopes.

"Oh ha-ha," she said, though she was smiling.

"Tell me more."

"Well, I can't go into details, obviously, but I have a feeling that their power has something to do with their connection to the earth." She frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"House elves, in terms of their aspirations, their desires, the things they find fulfilling – as a species – I see a pattern of closeness to nature, to the quieter things, and obviously, to servitude. In a way even that puts them at the bottom of the totem pole, if you will. On the other hand, wizards have changed over the centuries. We live now, almost as separate from nature, which is source of our elemental magic, as muggles do. A lot of our magical endeavors are for ourselves, which isn't surprising. Our ambition is half our power and half our downfall." She shrugged.

"So what's the solution?"

"Well I've already incorporated a lot of meditative eastern practices into my training and I think it makes a difference because you have to place yourself as close to the earth as possible, bare feet, cotton clothing – that kind of thing. Sounds a bit hippy trippy, but it works."

"But you still can't do wandless magic like house elves," pointed out Sirius.

"Yes, but that's where intent comes in. Basic tenant of magic. House elves are most powerful in service of others, which for the most part means servitude to witches and wizards, but it's not limited to that. For example, what Dobby did for us," said Hermione, thinking fondly of the elf who would always have a special place in their hearts. "He apparated into the Manor, caused intentional harm to a witch and did it without an iota of shame. But, he did it sacrificially. It wasn't for him, what he did, it was for Harry. He did it several times for Harry, in fact, even when it hurt him to do so."

"Okay, so what you're saying is… wands are a natural conduit for our magic to replace our lack of connection to the earth?" asked Sirius, and was rewarded with a beam of delight from Hermione.

"Something like that," she said. "When I went to see Olivander we spoke quite a bit about elemental magic, earth magics, the properties of wands. It's a pity that so much magical origin history is lost, or unproven. My theory is that as human civilization pushed forward, we became less and less connected to our roots, almost literally. What are wands, but part of trees?"

He reached across the table to place his hand over hers, happy to see his witch lit up and at ease.

* * *

The week passed leisurely, with Hermione often working in the library while Sirius sat nearby reading, unless they popped out, always as far from Wizarding areas as possible. Over the days Sirius could almost imagine they were just an ordinary couple, without anything hanging over their heads.

Hermione, meanwhile, was distracted by a shelf of books at the far end of the library. Over the years she'd tried to have a look at them, but they seemed to be magically stuck to the shelf.

"Sirius?"

"Hmmyes babe?" He was thumbing through a book on motorcycles. It was stupid how her breath still caught at his loose affection.

"Can we look at a book? Only, I think it might only respond to you because you're a Black."

"Yeah? Of course we can look, which book is it?"

It was a tall, slim shelf behind the massive ancient mahogany desk at the fire end of the library. The book she pointed to had nothing written on the spine. "I've heard of personal family books being charmed so only blood relatives of the author can read them." She stood on tiptoes. "Look here", pointing to the top edge of the book. "See the paper? It's subtle, but you can it isn't machine cut. And I'm sure the cover is leather, hand-stitched."

"Ok. And how do we know that the moment I pull it out it isn't going to explode, or worse?"

"I've run the diagnostic spells already, and if it does do something strange, I am trained to deal with Dangerous Books," she said, primly.

"Smarty pants."

"Basically."

She touched her finger to the top edge of the spine, tugging forward. The book would not budge. "See. Nothing."

He tried, and the book slid out easily into his palm. They waited, one full, tense minute, but when nothing happened, she gave him the all clear. He took it to the large mahogany desk and sat, looking at it curiously. It was only a small book, no bigger than an average novel, and much thinner. Hermione had hopped up to sit on the desk beside him. Experimentally, she pushed the book with her finger. As she expected, it didn't budge. She tried to pick it up and it wouldn't leave the desk. She tried to open it and it stayed glued shut. "Definitely only for Black blood," she said. "What is it?"

He was rubbing the cover of the book, on which there was the old Black coat of arms. "Just looks so familiar." He opened the book to a random page, and the tiny writing and diagrams brought memories flooding back, memories from a very long time ago when he was just a child, totally oblivious to anything except his own home. "Hermione! I remember these! My grandfather used to have them out on the table whenever I came in here. This is his handwriting here, but look." He flicked through the book to the pages closer to the front. "This is my great, great uncle's work."

"Work?"

"Yes, he was a spell crafter. Grandfather was one of the last few spell crafters Britain, but he dabbled, really. People still craft spells, obviously – Snape was excellent at it, even I have to admit that – but it's really a discipline, something they used to hand down and train for in those times. Like a trade, or a calling. Not many people have the skill or patience."

"Oh, I've heard of these – apparently Pureblood families have been really diligent about handing them down. Makes it easier when the bloodline is so tight I guess – but they're family heirlooms, not really publicly available."

Sirius had fallen silent, the texture of the creamy paper, and the smell of the worn leather transporting him back in time.

_"Now, Sirius, I want you to do as I do", his grandfather said, before taking position. Sirius adored his grandfather. It was still four years before he would go to Hogwarts, and the Sorting Hat would put him in Gryffindor with James Potter. Years before his family would disown him.  
Grandpapa was showing him some spells that he, and the Blacks that had come before, had created. Some of the spells in the book were useful for everyday living, but you couldn't be a part of the House of Black without there being dark magic involved too._

Watching his grandfather swish and swirl his wand, sometimes yelling the spell, sometimes whispering it – his grandfather's magical power never ceasing to thrill young Sirius – the boy tried to copy the complicated motions with the swatch in his hand. He was too young to have a wand, too young to perform wand magic, but his grandfather always said practice made perfect. "The magic will come, Sirius, and when it does, you'll be ready", he had said, crinkling his weathered face at his young grandson. "This is part of our great family's legacy, my boy. Treat it with care."

The memory fading, Sirius brushed his fingers against the soft leather, over the Black family crest burned there. _Toujours Pur. Grandfather, if you knew what my life has become, you'd be rolling in your grave. _Before he was old enough to actually try them out, he had already been kicked out of the house, living with James Potter and his parents, but Sirius could never forget the muscle memory of those treasured moments with his normally aloof grandfather, or the way the spells rolled off his tongue, pride suffusing his nine-year old body.

_It's about time the Black legacy has a little change in direction, _he thought.

"How do you feel about a little experimentation?" he asked, looking up at Hermione. She grinned in response.

"What does this one do?" They were pouring over the books, taking everything in.

"That's a defensive one. Creates a protective shield in front of the caster, and hurls anyone who runs into it in the other direction."

"And this? My Latin's a bit shaky but that diagram does _not _look like a defensive spell." She took in the grim set of his mouth.

"No, that one is definitely not defensive. Maybe lets stick to the defensive stuff."

She considered the hundreds of books around them, some of them one-of-a-kind, first editions, the only ones left probably in the world. "I think that's a good idea."

There was a huge pile of cushions in the corner of the room that they had gathered from all over the house. "Targets", he'd said. He'd instructed her to stand across from him. They were going to test the defensive spell they had looked at earlier. Sirius would cast the spell, and Hermione would throw a cushion at him. Nodding to him, she watched him taking stance, his eyes closed as he reached back into his mind for the memory of it, and there – he opened his eyes and with a quick movement of his wand, a flat blue shield of magic appeared in front of him. He looked chuffed, it being the first time he'd actually performed this spell with a wand.

Hermione immediately flicked her wand to send a cushion flying at Sirius, and the moment it touched the shield, it repelled with such speed and force in the other direction, that it caught Hermione right in the middle, and exploding in a puff of feathers and fabric, sending her backwards on her arse. "Oomph!"

She got up, dusting herself off and turned back to Sirius. He was laughing so hard, she could tears in his eyes. She smirked evilly, and with a flick of her wand the entire pile of cushions rose up and began flying at Sirius, each one attacking him with 'Whumph' as he dodged them crazily. "Argh! Babe!"

There were feathers flying everywhere. Without really thinking, Sirius cast the repulsion shield and Hermione's eyes widened as a volley of cushions came hurtling back towards her. Her wand arm shot out "_Locomotor"_, she shrieked, and to her relief the cushions stopped right where they were in mid-air. _"Finite Incantatum" _she said, and they all fell to the ground. That was the most offensive defensive spell she'd ever seen.

They met in the middle of the room. The library looked as though a duck – maybe a couple hundred ducks – had exploded in it. "Well", she said Hermione breathlessly, a little sweaty from all the action. "That's the weirdest pillow fight I've ever been in." Sirius was also breathing hard, grinning from ear to ear.  
"Oh, did you girls have lots of pillow fights at Hogwarts then?" he asked, a little too innocently. She turned to him, plucking a feather out of his hair. "Pervert."  
"Lolita." His eyes went dark.  
"Hardly." She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, feeling her heart race again, and this time at the hungry way he was looking at her.

The door creaked open and they both turned to see Remus stick his head in, his eyes widening comically at the state the room and its two occupants were in. "I… I don't even want to know", he said, pulling the door shut.  
Hermione and Sirius both burst out laughing. Hermione felt so much better; it was the best laugh she'd had in a long while.

"Erm, love, could you do one of those nifty cleaning spells you know?" he said, looking around them. There were even feathers stuck in the crystal chandelier.

She smirked. "First, my turn."

* * *

With all the time they were spending together, a confirmation of their connection, it was inevitable.

It was a Saturday, a month since they'd first kissed, and the Lupins had gone out. Neither Hermione nor Sirius had anywhere to be, a brief respite from babysitting, chores and outings. He slipped into the library, there she was, reading on an oversized, curved back chaise lounge.

Her honey curls lay over one shoulder, the bare side of her neck long, slim and soft looking. She had a lock between her fingers and was holding it under her nose like a moustache, with that little line between her eyebrows that she got when she was absorbed in something.

It was moments like these when he still couldn't believe that she was his. There had been an allure in taking things slowly. Over the last few weeks he had been learning her kiss by kiss, touch by touch, mapping out what felt good for her. He knew now how to soothe her, anger her, arouse her, make her laugh and inspire her tender care from just one touch, and she likewise had him wrapped around her little finger. He wanted more. _Oh how the tables have turned._ The seducer had been seduced.

He closed the door behind him and she looked up, her face relaxing into a dazzling smile when she saw him. He felt lightheaded with desire, a desperate desire. He nudged her and she shifted over a little, making space for him to sit beside her, his legs stretched out alongside hers, slim in her jeans. He reached up to grab an errant curl and tugged on it, watching it bounce. Her eyes were questioning beneath dark lashes, and he answered her with a soft kiss, his hands coming up to cup her face, stroke along her delicate jaw. She sighed, falling onto her back, and he propped himself up on one elbow, leaning over her to capture her mouth again.

Their kisses grew passionate. The book slipped out of her hand and hit the floor with a thump. Her hand was carding through the locks at the nape of his neck, his sneaking up underneath her jumper. When he reached the underside of her breast and realised she wasn't wearing a bra, he groaned, boldly cupping the soft globe. She fit perfectly in his hand, the weight, the smooth softness of her skin, the nub of her nipple under his caressing palm. She sighed his name and he moved his lips to the side of her neck. Time melted away, the library silent except for their sighs and kisses. Eventually it was she who pulled back, panting. She looked drowsy. "Don't you think we should stop?"

"I never said stop, love, I said take it slow", he whispered. Her eyes were dark with desire; she reached up to pull his mouth down to hers again. His hand smoothed over her stomach and he felt her tremble as he stroked the sensitive skin below her navel. The button on her jeans gave way easily, and he pulled the zip down, slipping his hand smoothly into her knickers and cupping her sex. She moaned, her breath hot and fast on his neck, her hips bucking at the touch, her arms coming up to scratch and clutch at his back.

She felt so smooth, bare with a tuft of curls at her apex. His mouth watered as he drew his finger through her wetness, and she cried out. She entranced him; the way her plump lips fell open in pleasure, the furrow between her eyebrows and the blush rising steadily upwards from her chest. He caught her mouth with his as he slipped a lubricated finger into her, then another, sliding them in and out, mimicking the movement with his tongue.

She was whimpering, a message that went straight to his cock, but he didn't pause, adding his thumb to roll small circles over her clit. Her hips were moving faster. His mouth open, he looked down to see his hand, dark and tattooed, disappearing into her knickers, between her creamy thighs.

"So close", she gasped, and she brought a hand up to massage her breast. "Show me", he rasped, and she lifted her jumper up, exposing one perfect globe with its dusky, taut peak to the warm air. He bent over and took her nipple into his mouth, tonguing it, alternating between flicking and sucking. Her breath hitched, her body stiffened and he felt her go tight around his fingers. He continued to move his fingers, to flick his tongue, his own hips rutting against her thigh for relief. She shuddered, arching and crying out loudly, her legs trembling as he stroked her through her intense orgasm.

Eventually she reached down and wrenched his hand from her oversensitised parts as he kissed her, unable to stop smiling, even against her mouth. She laughed a throaty, sex-drenched laugh and masculine pride ran through him like whiskey, knowing he'd caused that. He licked her wetness from his fingers as she watched, entranced, then reached for his wand to clean up, but she stopped him with her hand around his forearm, pushing him onto his back. He swallowed hard as she ran her palms up his thighs, her thumbs brushing along the inside of his legs over his jeans.

"I want to taste you", she said. Her skin was flushed from climax, her lips wet and her honey curls tumbling haphazardly around her. She was like an oasis to him, only she'd turned out to be completely real, and he was starving for a drink. His cock jumped at her words, and he nodded quickly.

She undid the button on his trousers, pulling them down with his boxers so his erection sprung out. He was an average length but thicker than she'd experienced. He was so hard he was already leaking. His pubic hair was dark, neatly trimmed. She thought he was beautiful, but kept that thought to herself, instead wrapping a hand around him, squeezing, and he hissed, his head falling back, one arm coming up over his head to desperately grip into the armrest. He was hot and heavy in her hand as she began to stroke him, her thumb sweeping over the liquid at the tip and he moaned, a delicious masculine sound, his mouth falling open, his legs tense as he fought the urge to thrust. The thick column of his neck called to her and she leaned forward to kiss and suckle and bite there while she used her hands on him. "Fuck babe, I'm not gonna last long", he confessed, in a gasp. A thrill ran through her, knowing that she had done this to him, reduced him to a quivering mess in moments.

She moved down his body, making sure his eyes followed hers. She brought her mouth to him, licking a long stripe from base to tip and taking the head between her lips, sucking gently. "Fuck, Hermione. Gods," he bit out, slamming his head against the backrest. His hips bucked and a hand came up to tangle in her hair, though he didn't pull or push.

She took more of him into her mouth until she could go no further, and started moving her mouth in a steady rhythm. He tasted good, and she moaned, sending the vibration down his cock, making him buck and curse again. It wasn't long before he was panting hard. "Baby I'm gonna cum" he breathed, and she brought a hand to the base of his cock, fisting him gently and keeping him there in his mouth, her tongue swirling. She felt him stiffen even more, and then he was moaning deeply and gasping affectionate curses as he came. When he was completely spent, she slipped her lips off of him and swallowed subtly.

Crawling up his heaving chest, they shared a kiss before she tumbled beside him, sharing the space with her body curling against his, both of them boneless. He found the taste of himself on her lips satisfying.

"I think we should start telling people. That we're together, I mean" she said. "At least some of our friends."

"Yeah", he said, breathlessly.

"Tomorrow night?"

"Yeah."

"Babe?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you lock the door?"

"Oh."

* * *

**A/N: ***passes out a round of iced-water* So did I earn my lemon badge? Lol


	14. Chapter Fourteen: Birthday Surprise?

**Disclaimer: **All canon characters, places, plots and situations from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from this.

**Warnings: **Rated M for language, violence and scenes of a sexual nature in later chapters.

**A/N: **Hey all, sorry for the long silence. I've been busy preparing for job interviews so writing this has had to take a back seat. I'm crossing so many parts of my body I've twisted myself into a pretzel. I've going through an interview process at the moment that's really demanding, and I really want this job! So sorry guys, I can't promise daily updates but there will be regular ones.

A couple of fun chapters up next! Enjoy, and please, please review. 

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**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

Please note this chapter may include scenes of a sexual nature, including implied sexual activity as well as highly descriptive language, so if that's not your thing, move along.

oOoOoOo

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**Chapter Fourteen: Birthday Surprise?  
**

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Sirius thrived on action. Next to making amends for his absence in wartime, it was one of the main reasons he'd decided to become an Auror. He _could_ have been sitting on an island in the Mediterranean sipping cocktails. He _could_ be on a whiskey tasting tour around the world. Instead, he'd become an Auror for the British Ministry's Department of Magical Law Enforcement and was currently sitting at his desk in a quiet office with a stack of paperwork in front of him. He was only midway through his desk-bound week and Sirius already felt like he might be going a bit mad – and that was saying something for someone who'd spent twelve years behind bars.

He was however, working on a 'mission' of his own. If he wasn't going to be in the field actually finding and arresting perps, or included in the case that affected Hermione, then he was going to get as bloody well close as possible. If he was going to protect Hermione – and there was no question he would, whether or not he wore a badge while doing it – then he needed some insight. Hermione had mentioned that morning that she was seeing Harry for lunch. It was the perfect time, with the office as empty as it could be, to get into Harry's office and find the file on Greyback.

So when lunch-time arrived and the office emptied, Sirius watched surreptitiously as his black-haired godson left with the crowd. Putting his quill down, he stood up stretching, taking the moment to flit his eyes about the office and confirm that it was safe to proceed. Sirius snuck over to Harry's private office and did a quick once-over with his wand at the door, for any wards or alarms Harry may have used. Nothing. He quietly opened the door, slipping in and closing it behind him.

Harry's desk, of course, was covered in work organised in a fashion only Harry himself could decipher. At least Sirius knew that the file would be on his desk as it was a current case, so that's where he'd start looking. Gingerly moving the notes around, he almost immediately found the file, primarily because it was one of the most ludicrously thick case files he'd ever seen.

It was full of notes written by various hands over the years, pictures and testimonies from victims and victim's families as well as information that had been pulled from other Death Eaters in interrogations. Sirius flipped through the file with his thumb, stopping when he reached the date period that Hermione's case would be filed under. He found the incident report fairly quickly, and his breath immediately quickened with sympathy and anger. Hermione had described things to him, but seeing the photographs of the crime scene and reading the Auror report on how she had found her parents and severity of the injuries involved, was heartbreakingly sickening.

Sirius wasn't in the habit of referring to werewolves as monsters. Growing up with one as a best mate had cemented that. For the first time though, as he went through the file, he understood how appropriate the slur was for Fenrir Greyback. Only a monster could take such pure pleasure in needless violence and causing pain, mental and physical. The photographs were stomach-turning and reports went on for pages. This was the monster that had enjoyed seeing Hermione tortured, had intended to cause her more pain and suffering, and probably death. This was the monster that had killed her parents and had now sent her a death threat. This was also the monster that was responsible for the pain and suffering that Moony had endured since he was just a little boy.

He looked at the time and realised he'd been looking through the file for twenty minutes and still hadn't found any notes on the current investigation. He rifled through the papers on the desk, but nothing looked like what he needed, so he replaced the folder and left the room, just before lunch ended and Aurors started to trickle in.

Back at his desk, quill in hand, Sirius looked up when Harry entered the office. His godson looked directly over at him with a small smirk. "Alright Sirius?" he said, and Sirius knew Harry had pre-empted his snooping. Dammit. Harry knew him too well.

At least his snooping hadn't been entirely unfruitful; now Sirius knew exactly what kind of a person they were dealing with. And it didn't make him feel any better.

* * *

Hermione stepped through the Floo into Grimmauld, dusting the ash off her work-clothes. She'd been busy that day, apart from her focus, there was also general Unspeakable research to be done. Tonight was Harry's birthday party over at his house, and she was glad that Sirius had volunteered to make the few dishes they needed to take over. Remus was good for salads, but when it came to the two women in the house, both Hermione and Tonks were hopeless, though the latter did try. To the misfortune of everyone else.

"Hello love." She looked up to see Sirius holding out a glass of red wine to her and she moaned, taking it while he laughed at her reaction. "Long day then?"

"Yes," she said, rolling her shoulders. "And now I've got to go find something to wear to this birthday party. How are we doing for time?"

"We are just fine for time," he said, placing a hand on her lower back and encouraging her towards the kitchen. "In fact, enough time for you to come have that glass of wine with me outside."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What's the occasion?"

"No occasion, it's just warm weather and I thought it would be nice for us." He entwined their fingers and tugged her out the kitchen door into the back yard. There on the battered old picnic table was another glass of wine.

"What about Remus and Tonks?" asked Hermione, looking back at the house. Though their friends knew they were together, the two of them had been keeping things as normal as possible, which did not include glasses of wine in the garden at sunset.

"Don't worry about them," said Sirius. "They've gone to drop Teds off at Molly and Arthurs, and you know nobody can visit the Burrow without at least a cup of tea. Now straddle the bench."

"Er, what?" Her eyes widened.

"Nothing like that," he tutted. "Such a dirty little girl." At his words Hermione choked slightly on her wine. Sirius raised his eyebrows in surprise, which quickly transformed into mischievousness. _Oh gods_, she thought, doing as he said as quickly as possible to get through the moment. She felt him do the same behind her, and then his hands were on her shoulders, massaging and pressing and _holy mother of Circe and Godric's tartan pants, _it felt so good.

"Tartan pants?" he said behind her, amused. She hadn't realised she'd spoken out loud.

"Every colour, pattern and texture under the sun," she moaned. "Just don't stop." After a while, when she was as limp as a wet noodle, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him so she was cradled by his body. His lips met the skin between her neck and shoulder, nipping and kissing to the response of her sighs. A few minutes of this heavenly attention from his mouth and she was already trembling. She pulled away reluctantly, turning to kiss him on the mouth before smiling apologetically and reaching for her wine.

He smiled back, understanding, and the two of them sipped in comfortable silence as the sky darkened.

"Hey, while I remember," she said, "won't you please open your grandfather's book to that shield spell we played with last time? I'd really like to see the preliminary notes on it. I've never heard of a shield that also repels, and with that amount of force. Would be nice to see the thinking that led to it. I tried last night but it wouldn't even budge a bloody page," she said incredulously, not without a little admiration for the magic.

"Alright love, I'll do that," said Sirius, running his hands up and down her arms when he saw her shiver. The last rays of the sun were quickly disappearing and with it, the air had grown much cooler.

"I should probably get moving, I want to change my clothes," said Hermione. As gracefully as she could, she got up and stepped over the bench. She stretched like a cat. "That was lovely, thank you," she said, turning to hug him, enjoying the warmth and comfort of his solid chest against her cheek. "You always smell so good," she said, and pressed her nose to the middle of his chest, sniffing. He made a sound and gently pulled her away. Her eyes gleamed in response. "Have I found a ticklish spot Mr. Black?"

"Not _ticklish_, Ms. Granger," he said, smiling, but his eyes were dark with implication and her mind immediately travelled back to the day before, suffusing her with heat.

"Are you ever going to stop teasing me?" she asked, and he laughed out loud.

"Unfortunately not," he said, feigning helplessness. "Sold as is, love."

"Whatever have I gotten myself into?" she mused out loud, but she was grinning back at him as they entered the house.

* * *

After the war, it was mostly the younger generation in their motley extended 'family' that spent more time together. It was just a natural development of the relationships that had developed during the war and afterwards. This group included Remus and Tonks, Ginny and Harry, Ron and Eva, and George and Hermione. Sirius had naturally slotted in when he'd come back, and every now again Luna or Neville if they were around.

The Potter's house was a modest size in a well-to-do part of London that was just far enough away from the hustle and bustle of the city, but not as far out in the sticks as the Burrow.

"Dad and Mum send their birthday wishes, Mum says she'll see you and everyone else on Sunday for a 'second' celebration, and to tell you that they've got all the kids settled down for a nice sleep-over," George relayed dutifully. "Now that I've fulfilled my obligations as a part-time owl, where's the cake?"

Ginny, one arm cradling her belly protectively, smacked her brother in the arm. "Shut up George, and go make yourself useful." George clutched his arm dramatically. "Sheesh, only sister of mine. Aren't I a guest in your home?" Ginny laughed in his face, and then continued laughing all the way out of the room, past Harry, who gave her a puzzled look as he entered the kitchen.

"First I'm an owl, now I'm a house-elf," grumbled George good-humouredly, rummaging in his pocket. "Ah Harry! Happy birthday mate!" He handed a small package to his sister's husband. Harry regarded the object with uneasy curiousity. "Uh, thanks George, I'll open it later."

The Floo went again and in trooped Remus, Tonks, Hermione and Sirius, each bearing a dish of food. "Sirius cooked most of it," said Hermione, putting the potato salad down and throwing her arms around Harry's chest in a hug before giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Happy birthday Harry!" Remus and Tonks followed, and then it was Sirius' turn to wish his godson.

"Happy birthday mate," he said, reaching out a hand to shake. Harry looked at the hand, then at Sirius.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said, pulling his godfather into a bone-crushing hug with lots of back thumping. Sirius looked very pleased after that, and shared a private smile with Hermione who was glad to see that despite their current issues, the two could still be there for one another.

Finally Ron and Eva arrived, and soon after them, Luna, the latter who, after greeting everyone and wishing Harry a happy birthday, strolled right over to George and slipped her arm around his waist, reaching up to kiss him on the mouth. Hermione raised her eyebrow, sharing a look with Sirius. Looks like they weren't the only couple announcing themselves this evening, and clearly George and Luna had decided to do it by just being 'them' around everyone. Hermione thought somehow that it wouldn't work as well for her and Sirius as it did for the other new couple.

With all the food on the table and everyone taking their place, first Harry opened his birthday presents. His cheeks were slightly red. Even after all these years Harry still felt strange about having so much given to him, and being the center of attention as well. He opened Ginny's gift first, a beautiful muggle watch that he immediately put on, grinning at his wife. After that, just to get it out of the way, he opened George's gift. It was a small box, and when he opened it there was a tiny bottle nestled in silk. He was surprised – it didn't look like a Whizz. He looked up at George.

"Explanation's under the packing mate, but eh…" he looked between Ginny and Harry. "But you might want to wait until a bit later," he said with a wink. Harry blushed bright red and beside him, Ginny went pale with horror at the idea of receiving anything related to sex from her brother.

Luna's gift was strange, of course, a plush toy that turned out to be a Nargle, according to her. "Obviously not life-sized," she said. "Or it'd be really hard to see." Everyone nodded politely as she mentioned the new range of plush toys that was going to be sold in the Weasley's store. They consisted of a number of yet unseen magical creatures, or as Hermione thought privately, figments of Luna's imagination.

After that, Harry opened his gift, a joint one from Ron, Eva, Remus and Tonks. It was an enormous hamper of sweets and treats that made Harry's eyes go as big as they did the first time he saw the sweet cart on the train to Hogwarts. "I'm going to have to hide these from the kids," he said, thanking his friends.

"Forget the kids!" said George. "Ginny's gotten into it already!"

"I'm pregnant!" said Ginny, caught with her mouth stuffed with Jelly Slugs.

"That's alright," said Harry, leaning over to kiss his wife on the hamster-like cheek. "Anything that's mine is yours, love."

There was a well-humoured chorus of 'yucks!' and 'awws'.

The last gifts Harry opened were Hermiones, and then Sirius. He was ridiculously pleased about the shoes and the smart coat, a reminder that once all he'd had to wear were oversized hand-me-downs.

Everyone tucked into dinner eagerly, raving over this dish and that, and trying to politely and stealthily Evanesco whatever it was that Tonks had made.

After they'd polished off a chocolate cake that Eva had baked, sang Happy Birthday to Harry, whose eyes sparkled in the candlelight, they all retired to the living room to sink down into cushy couches while hot drinks and alcohol was passed around while news and stories were told. There was a pleasant exchange of conversation between all of them, the benefit of a small party.

Hermione and Sirius had managed to get a couch to themselves, which was good because this way they could see everyone else when they broke the news. Hermione's heart was thumping in her chest, and her hand on the couch between them crept closer to Sirius'. Just when it seemed one of them was about to say something, Ginny piped up.

"So what's the deal with the two of you?" she asked. "You haven't bickered or flirted once tonight. You sick or something?" This last she directed at Sirius.

"Oh", came a dreamy voice from the corner, where Luna was perched on George's lap, "I imagine that's because they've dealt with the sexual tension." All eyes turned to the couple while there was a silence, which Luna was only too happy to fill. "It's a really interesting mating phenomenon that the-"

"Oh it's about bloody time!" Ginny thumped down her mug with an alarming bang and turned to Harry with her palm out. "You owe me five galleons, husband." George crowed and Tonks jostled Remus, the two of them with knowing smirks. Eva and Harry were smiling, the latter happy to lose this particular bet, but also surprised that Sirius and Hermione had actually gotten together. Ron was the only one who looked absolutely clueless.

"Who's done what with sexual whatsit?" he asked. Everybody ignored him. Meanwhile, Hermione's cheeks had gone tellingly pink, whereas Sirius just looked confused.

"Mate, you're a bit thick for an Auror," said George to Sirius as he passed a fistful of coins to his sister." He shook his head sadly. "And Hermione. I'm disappointed with you, really. The brightest witch of her time and all that."

When the two of them continued to stare at George, flabbergasted, he sighed. "Did you two really think you weren't completely obvious? The pool for you two admitting there's something between you has been running since March, my friends, although I'm disappointed you didn't hold out a little longer. Lost me a pretty penny, you have." Ginny was smugly dropping galleons into her purse. Ron still looked completely confused.

"Well," said Sirius, grinning. "I guess there's no need to make announcements then, is there?" He pulled Hermione so that she was squashed into his side, and turned his face to plant a kiss on her hair.

"Oh my," Ginny squeaked, fanning her eyes. Harry wordless passed her a serviette without even looking her way. His wife tended to be rather emotional when pregnant.

"Wait," said Hermione, horror dawning. "Does _everyone _know?"

"Does everyone know _what?_" said Ron exasperatedly.

"Don't think so," said George. "The pool's only been between people in this room now. You're going to have to find a way to break it to Mum for sure. She goes a bit wonky when it comes to her children doing the mummy-daddy thing," he said.

"Ew!" said Ginny at the expression.

"Well she lost the plot when she found out that Bill lost his virginity at Hogwarts, and I bet if you asked her she'd say everyone else is still as pure as the driven snow too, even that one over there with third Potter junior in her belly," said George, pointing. Ginny wrinkled her nose.

"I saw the way you looked at each other when you thought the other wasn't looking, that night at the pub," offered Luna.

"And I saw you two sharing a nice snog in a muggle shop. Did you think you were the only wizarding folk who like shopping on the high street?" scoffed George.

"Oh please," said Ginny. "You could've cut the sexual tension with a knife."

"THEY'RE DOING WHAT?" Apparently Ron had finally caught up, having somehow been left out of the pool.

"Ronald!" hissed Eva.

Their freckled friend looked extremely perturbed. "It's not – there's no – look, there's no problem, well okay it is a bit weird –" Harry gave him a withering look. "-what I mean – what I'm saying is, why didn't anyone tell me?" he finished, bewildered.

The entire table broke out in laughter, Hermione and Sirius included.

"Well in that case, I think we'd both appreciate it if you'd all keep this to yourselves for a while?" asked Hermione. "It's just new, and with everything that's going on, it would be nice to have a bit of privacy."

"I bet," said George under his breath.

Hermione glared at him before addressing everyone again. "I guess we wanted to tell you guys because you're the closest to us and we were getting tired of hiding it every time you were around."

"And clearly we've been sneaking around like teenagers while the lot of you've been having a laugh," added Sirius, good-naturedly. "But yeah, if you could just keep it between the people in this room, that would be good of you."

"So I'm interested, when exactly _did _you guys get together?" asked Ginny innocently, back to sipping her hot chocolate. Hermione and Sirius looked at each other, debating what to say, if anything, but Remus had no such reservations.

"I can answer that one," he said, smirking.

Sirius wasn't particularly perturbed by it, but he saw Hermione cover her red face with both hands. "C'mon mate, nobody really wants to know-" His plea fell on deaf ears as Remus and Tonks described the horrifying evening they'd arrived home only to find the two of them 'mauling' one another on the couch. They soon had everyone in hysterics, though Hermione blushed throughout. Sirius, of course, merely looked smug.

"Of course I then had 'the talk' with Sirius, Harry, so don't worry."

"But they're always arguing," said Ron, who was still trying to wrap his head around the whole thing.

"Oh and that's not familiar?" snorted Harry, and both Hermione and Ron laughed, the latter conceding. Sirius bit his tongue; both he and Hermione were adults with pasts, but he wanted to be reminded of her relationship with the redhead about as much as she'd care to about Sirius' own partners. But then Hermione, laughing and bright beside him caught his eye, and warmth suffused through him when she tucked her arm under his, holding it close.

The night didn't last long after that, and a couple of games of Wizarding Chess – at which Ron played out his revenge on everyone else – since Ginny was tired. Harry looked happily tipsy as he said goodnight to all his friends.

Back at Grimmauld, after the Lupins had said their own goodnights and headed upstairs, Hermione and Sirius made their way to their floor in comfortable silence, their fingers just brushing as they walked side by side. He said goodnight to her at her bedroom door before heading to his own bed. A few minutes after he'd undressed down to boxers and t-shirt, climbed into bed and turned the lights out, his bedroom door opened quietly and she slipped in, closing it behind her.

He watched her with sleepy eyes as she approached the bed, illuminated only by the moonlight coming through the window. She padded quietly over and he shifted to give her space as she lifted the covers and climbed in with a tired sigh. He pulled her to him, spooning her, feeling the slow and steady rise and fall of her body as she drifted into sleep. He gently stroked the inside of her arm, where he knew she wore a glamour, feeling a strong sense of protectiveness over her.

He joined her in slumber not long after, falling asleep breathing in the coconut scent of her silky curls. He dreamed about a seaside holiday he'd be on when he was a child.

* * *

_**Sneak Preview: Chapter Fifteen:**_

_"You excited about having a girl?" Sirius asked. _

_"Yeah, yeah I guess I am," said Harry, smiling at the glass still in his hand. "It's just a bit nerve wracking, not just cause we've already got the boys, but I'm not really sure what to do with a girl." _

_"Tea parties, most likely, but we've been known to enjoy the odd book or two," came a dry voice from the doorway._

* * *

**A/N:** Naww.


	15. Chapter Fifteen: Gambling Game

**Disclaimer: **All canon characters, places, plots and situations from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from this.

**Warnings: **Rated M for language, violence and scenes of a sexual nature.

**A/N: **So I'm not sure if everyone's just been chilling away for Easter, or if this story just isn't holding interest anymore. I'll keep posting though – just feeling a bit meh.

oOoOoOo

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

Please note this chapter may include scenes of a sexual nature, including implied sexual activity as well as highly descriptive language, so if that's not your thing, move along.

oOoOoOo

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen Gambling Game  
**

oOoOoOo

Sirius woke up quite suddenly in the early hours of the morning, just as the dawn was breaking. Physically he felt warm, snug and pleasantly sleepy with his witch beside him, but his mind was on full alert; something had woken him up. He cocked his head, listening, but could hear nothing besides the usual sounds a house makes as the temperature changes. He frowned, looking down at the witch beside him. Hermione was still fast asleep and he didn't want to disturb her, especially since she'd woken them both up in the middle of the night with one of her nightmares and it had taken a while for both of them to get back to sleep.

There it was again. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, as he recognised the disturbance as something brushing up against Grimmauld's walls. In an instant he had slipped out of bed, grabbing his wand. He exited the room as quietly as possible, and meeting an equally alert Tonks on the landing confirmed his the urging of his intuition. "Moony?" he whispered to his cousin.

"Asleep," she answered.

Because the house still belonged to Sirius as the last surviving Black and the wards were intimately woven with his family's magic, he was the first to notice the disturbance. Tonks was second, only because she shared his blood and was living under his roof. Again came the uncomfortable sensation, like something cold and prickly being dragged over his skin, stronger this time. A sense of urgency washed over him.

In Auror mode, at the bottom of the stairs they wordlessly split up, Tonks heading to the kitchen to check the back door, while Sirius went to the main entrance. The sensation got stronger, the prickles turning into a stabbing sensation, like thousands of tiny pins, itchy almost. Just as he reached the front door, there came the sound of breaking glass from the floor above, and he immediately turned on his heel, catching Tonks' eyes before the both of them bolted up the stairs. Sirius went straight to his bedroom; it was as though an invisible thread was pulling him there.

The first thing he saw was that Hermione was awake, sitting up in bed with the sheets pooled around her waist, wand in hand. The piece of wood was pointed straight at the bedroom window. Across the room there was shattered glass all over the shortboy and the floor, the bowl of owl treats he kept on the windowsill overturned, with the biscuits spilled in amongst the glass and splinters of wood. He rushed to Hermione's side.

"What's happened?" he asked her, as Tonks came into the room with her wand out, surveying the damage. Hermione was still staring towards the window but reached out blindly with her free arm until it connected with his, and turned to him.

"There was an enormous bird!" she said. _What? _Sirius hesitated, wondering if she had perhaps been dreaming and woken up confused. "I was almost waking up, my eyes were still closed by I could sense the daylight and then there were these _shadows _and when I opened my eyes there was a bloody great raven, just sitting there on the sill, looking directly at me." Hermione shivered. "I – I just reacted," she said quietly, finally relaxing her wand arm.

"That's alright love," said Sirius. "Window can be fixed." He was more concerned about what Hermione had seen and why. He couldn't dismiss it as a coincedence; one look at Tonks told him she thought the same, that the sensation of the ward breach had started just before the appearance of the bird, and ended by the time they'd come upstairs. Owl mail simply did not garner the same reaction.

"Why are you out of bed anyway?" asked Hermione, looking at him more closely.

"Had to use the lav," he lied smoothly. He could feel Tonks' eyes on him. To his relief, Hermione just nodded, too tired and in shock to question why he'd felt it necessary to take his wand with him to the loo.

"So sorry to wake you up," groaned Hermione, apologising to Tonks. "Please tell me I haven't woken up Remus and Teds as well?"

"No, no," said Tonks. "Don't worry, I'm the only one who heard the sound." She exchanged a look with Sirius before raising her wand and beginning a litany of spells and charms to put the window back together.

"Oh you don't have to —" protested Hermione weakly, but Tonks just smiled.

"It's no trouble," the Metamorphagus said, with a wink. "After all I've had loads of practice with repairing charms." Once every shard of glass was back in place and Sirius had added his own strengthening charms to the window, Tonks left.

Sirius turned back to Hermione. Her hair was charmingly disheveled from sleep and she had impressions on her left cheek from the pillow. She was blinking rapidly as she attempted to wake up properly. Sirius placed his wand on his bedside table and leaned over to kiss her on the forehead. "Just nipping to the loo love, be back in a tick," he said. She nodded.

As he'd expected, Tonks was waiting outside the room to speak to him in private. "Okay so I know why we lied in there," she whispered. "But do you really think this might be related to... _That_ case?"

"I can't say, can I?" said Sirius a little bitterly. "Since I'm not on it."

"Oh come on Sirius," snapped Tonks. Sirius glared at her briefly.

"Well you felt that, with the wards, right? It wasn't just me?" he asked his cousin. Tonks nodded.

"Felt when it started, felt when it ended," she said, emphasising. Sirius nodded thoughtfully.

"A common bird shouldn't have had that effect," he said. "Otherwise the wards would be going off every time one decided to rest on a windowsill or fly too close."

"Animagus?" suggested Tonks.

"Could well be," agreed Sirius, looking back over his shoulder to make sure Hermione was still in the room. Tonks must have read the battle inside him on his face because she touched his elbow to get his attention back.

"You can't tell her what you really suspect," she reminded him. He huffed frustratedly. On the one hand he needed to follow Harry's orders, and on the other he thought Hermione would want to know. Thinking of her nightmare the night before, though, compounded the issue.

"I know," he said. "Just, I'd feel better if we strengthened the wards."

"I'll do it," said Tonks, insisting. "Go back to bed or Hermione will start suspecting something if she hasn't already."

Sirius snuck into the lavatory, flushing the toilet before heading back to his bedroom. Hermione was awake, but lying on her side, staring sightlessly at the window. By the glassiness of her eyes he could tell she was still dazed rather than worried. He slipped into bed beside her, breaking her line of sight and pulling her towards him so they were cuddled up close together. He smiled appreciatively as she met his eyes, realisation of where they were dawning in the whiskey depths. "Alright love?" he asked, but she was silent as her eyes travelled down his bare chest. It had gotten quite warm the night before, and he was in the habit of taking his top off and flinging it wherever during the night. In the drama of the morning he'd completely forgotten that all he'd had on were his boxers.

She didn't seem to mind, he noted, amused at the hunger he saw in her eyes, but then she reached out and trailed her fingers over his chest and in two seconds flat he'd gone from feeling pleasantly cocky to feeling as though he'd been struck with a Confundus. His mind went hazy and he was unable to stifle his groan at the feeling of her fingertips on his skin.

"So you weren't just teasing yesterday," Hermione said, with a sly grin that widened when she stroked her fingers over the center of his chest again, and he shivered. He grabbed her wrist, determined to regain control. If she was going to test him, then she was going to get a little test of her own.

"You are a very naughty girl Ms. Granger," he said in a low voice, watching how her pupils dilated and her breathing sped up a little. She was wearing a strappy top made out of some soft fabric, and no bra. He groaned inwardly, trailing a hand over her hip to squeeze her arse. She inhaled sharply. _Well, well. Who would have thought swotty Hermione Granger liked a bit of that. _He certainly wasn't complaining, however, he was struggling to stay in the moment after what had just happened. On the bright side, his fractured attentions helped him reign himself in, however reluctantly. He pulled away from her and immediately he could see the disappointment in her whiskey depths looking back at him. His certainty wavered.

He'd wanted to take their relationship slowly, which to him meant waiting a little while longer before they had sex. He wasn't experienced in relationships, but even Sirius knew that adding sex to feelings complicated things. He was satisfied with what had happened with them in the library two days before, and was quite happy for more of that, but did she want more? So soon? What if she discovered she was sick of him in two weeks? What if he got killed on a mission? What if –

"It's okay," she said softly, as if his thoughts had been written on his face. She'd reached out and was rubbing at the wrinkles between his eyebrows. "This probably wasn't a great idea, coming in here," she said. He was confused. What did she mean? She made to get out of bed and he tightened his grip on her wrist as a new thought occurred to him.

"Babe I'm not rejecting you," he said gently. She stilled, and he knew he'd touched a nerve. Who in the hell had given her cause to think she was rejectable?! He pulled her hand that was still in his grasp down under the sheets, turning it and pressing her palm against his erection, so she could _feel _how much he wanted her. "He doesn't lie," he joked lightly. "You're gorgeous and interesting and intelligent and so, so sexy. You are," he insisted at the doubt in her eyes. Gods, how could she possibly think he didn't want her? He was so hard he was twitching under the merest pressure of her hand. His desire stoked, he swallowed hard to keep his words safe, but the truth came out anyway. "You are, and there's nothing more I'd like to do than fuck you right here and now until you lost your voice from screaming my name," he said hoarsely.

Her eyes widened slightly, and the hint of a smile played on her plump lips, reassuring him that he'd gotten through to her. Unfortunately for him though, vocalising his desires did nothing to curb them, instead having the opposite effect.

"So the other day in the library... you don't regret that?" she asked, her hand still on him.

"Gods no! No, no," he gasped, burying his face in the warm space between between her shoulder and neck, groaning as her palm began to move more confidently over him.

"So... it's okay if we do things like that?" She punctuated her question with a squeeze.

"Merlin," he groaned. "More than ok."

"So just not _sex _sex?" she said thoughtfully, as though working through an equation. She laughed.

"Oooh..." Sirius bit out. "Ngh! What are you laughing at?"

"Just... I sounded like a teenager for a minute there," she said, removing her hand. He growled frustratedly, then gasped when she slipped her hand inside his boxers to stroke him skin on skin. _Oh, that's even better, _he thought, his breath coming faster. She moved towards him, dipping to place open-mouthed kisses against his chest, and he clenched his teeth against the somewhat embarassing sounds he thought he was going to make. He tangled a hand in her curls, panting. It was only a few more minutes of this and he came with a harsh gasp, his fingers rubbing sensually against her scalp.

When he opened his eyes her face was flushed, her eyes sparkling and her breath coming in shaky bursts. He took a minute to return to himself. "Your turn," he croaked and nipped playfully at her mouth and ears as he pinned her down and set about the serious business of using his hands to make his witch see stars.

"I suppose it's not so bad," she said, afterwards, when their breathing returned to normal.

His eyes widened. "Woman you weren't exactly complaining a few minutes ago," he said defensively.

"No, not _that_," she said, turning to him. "That was brilliant." He grinned and she rolled her eyes. "I meant, it's not so bad doing this like teenagers. I did miss out on that part of my life."

He turned to her, tracing light circles on her upturned palm, making her shiver. Gods, she was so young. So soft and unblemished, next to him, by far. He didn't often think of her as the Hermione he'd met so very long ago, but sometimes when she mentioned her youth he wondered if it was really okay, him and her. The friends that they'd told so far seemed perfectly okay with it, but what about everyone else? Molly and Arthur? The public in general?

She sighed, breaking his line of thought. "Just don't make me wait too long, okay?"

"Gods witch, you're insatiable," he teased, pushing his concerns to the back of his mind.

"Well you keep doing what you just did and it's only going to get worse," she joked.

"Touche."

They lay in comfortable silence, Sirius wondering how it was that he'd never done this before with a woman, just lying together in bed, even after. It had always felt too strange, too intimate, but with Hermione it didn't feel weird at all. It felt like lying beside a friend who he just happened to really, really want to see naked and do naughty things with.

And who had just wandlessly accio'd the drinking glass from his side of the bed and filled it with water. Wandlessly. Fuck but it was impressive, and he loved the cocky little grin she gave him as she passed the glass to him. He grinned back at her, tugging on one sleep-frizzy curl.

"This is nice," she sighed. "I almost forgot about earlier." She looked at the window, her expression growing troubled. "Don't laugh but I've got a strange feeling about that raven. The way it looked at me..." She shivered. "I'm being silly, aren't I? And to think I broke a window over a bird."

"I think you were woken up with a terrible fright, and as for the window – I can't blame your reflexes," he soothed, both admiring that she had them and hating the way she'd come about them.

She sighed, flopping back down onto her side. "You're probably right. I hate being so paranoid," she confessed in a whisper. Sirius had to look away. She didn't need to beat herself up about this, not when she actually had a very good reason to be hyper-vigilant.

He tucked a curl behind her ear and it bounced right out again. "Always trust your intuition, love," he said, then realised that he'd been telling the opposite not even minutes earlier. Merlin but he wanted to kill Harry for putting him in this position.

* * *

By the time Ginny's birthday came around, Sirius was starting to feel like he could let down his guard a little, which was a problem. Since the incident with the raven there'd been no more strange occurences. After begging Harry, he could also confirm that nothing had happened when he couldn't be with Hermione and she was tracked by Aurors instead. Things were nice and quiet, and quiet was nice, but quiet didn't always mean good, or even safe.

Things were going well. He and Hermione had slipped into a kind of routine, and he ignored Moony when he accused him of being 'domesticated'. Although things with Harry were still not entirely great, Sirius felt a lot better now that he was back on field work. They'd caught two more vampires, another Death Eater who'd been low on the totem pole, and one of Riddle's unmarked proteges. So, good stuff.

Right at this moment though, he was quite possible in hell, if hell was too many red heads to count and a fruity pink concotion being shoved into his hands. Ginny had insisted on combining the baby-shower and her birthday party. "There's no way," she'd explained, "that I'm going to be able to handle another Potter-Weasley Event before the baby comes."

Sirius had thought it was very sensible at the time, but now he was seated at a lon table covered in pink decor and - was that a pile of nappies rolled into the shape of a cake? - suffering through Molly's mimosa-fuelled thoughts on quite possibly every subject under the sun. Including Hermione's 'terminal singledom'.

The terminally single girlfriend in question was seated way down the opposite side of the table, and the effort of maintaining the appearance of a platonic relationship with her in front of everyone was difficult enough without Molly's unintentional stoking of his possessiveness. To make matters worse, Hermione was wearing a dress with tiny cherries printed all over it, and Sirius couldn't help thinking she'd done it on purpose, just to drive him crazy. She rarely wore dresses or skirts, so it was completely distracting to him when she did.

"I'm just saying, it would be lovely to see her happy, with a family of her own, you know what I mean dear?" Molly rambled on. "Not that I'm saying she doesn't have a family, oh no, goodness no! She's as good as one of ours, mine and Arthurs, she is. It's just with her parents gone, we – what is with having just one child anyway, I always say –"

Sirius wondered if it would be possible to put his head through the table. He looked around, his eyes alighting on the action at the other end of the table where Ginny was going through some gifts. She'd pulled out a tiny yellow romper that the other women were now dutifully coo-ing over. Desperately, he did the first thing that came to mind. "Ooh that's lovely that is," he said, shrill with hysteria and aware that listening to Molly for fifteen solid minutes had affected the way he was speaking. Sod it. Everyone else snickered at him, Hermione arching her eyebrow curiously, but the deed was done – Molly was distracted.

"I'm going inside for a bit," he muttered to Arthur, who clapped an understanding hand on the younger wizard's shoulder.

"See if you can bring the Firewhiskey back with you," said Arthur out of the corner of his mouth. Molly had decreed that a baby shower for a little girl was no place for 'hard liquor', and most of the men present felt much worse for it. Only Charlie Weasley seemed to be enjoying the mimosas and gushing over really tiny clothing, but then again, the wizard was more gay than a hippo in a tutu, and Molly had already chewed Sirius' ear off about how her son 'just needs to find a nice girl and settle down now'.

The house was blissfully quiet with everyone else outdoors, and he sighed with relief as he entered the cool kitchen. Right. First things first. Firewhiskey. He began searching through every cupboard.

"Under the sink." Harry had walked in, looking like he clearly needed an escape as well. Sirius grabbed the bottle triumphantly and turned to Harry.

"Thanks mate," he said. "Er... fancy a shot? For a toast," he added hurriedly.

"Er, yeah alright," Harry said, blinking owlishly behind his glasses. He helped Sirius find two shot glasses.

After Harry had been filled in about the raven, the Animagus registry had been thoroughly searched, to no avail. If the raven was an Animagus, then he was an illegal one. When the search came up empty, Sirius had allowed his frustration and sense of helplessness to get the better of him, and Harry and him had had another argument about Sirius getting involved.

_"You know how this works Sirius, you're compromised. And even if you weren't, I still wouldn't put on the case after that stunt you pulled last month! I'm actually glad Baric took his offer and buggered off when he did, otherwise Merlin knows what you would've done if you'd bumped into him in a hallway!"_

Feeling like he'd been kicked in the chest by an angry hippogriff, it was only the reminder of his disappointing reckless that stopped Sirius from arguing any further. That had been almost two weeks ago and things were still tense between the two.

"Sorry about the other day," said Sirius quickly. "I know you're in a tough spot – it's just... it's her, you know."

Harry nodded. "Look Sirius, the thing is, if it were up to me I might think about putting you on the case but we can't afford another incident right now. Not me, not you and not the department. I know it's difficult because you have... feelings for her, but think of it as being for your own good," he urged. "You do something to get yourself suspended again, or worse, you'll be out off the department, and I need you to be an Auror, right? We need Order members who have higher security clearances but aside from that, I don't want you to lose your badge and neither would she. You have to trust that I am doing everything in my power to protect her. She's my best friend you know."

_Yes, but she's my witch, _Sirius wanted to say, but bit his tongue. After all Harry seemed to think that that was the exact issue that had Sirius compromised. He swallowed any desire to argue and poured them each a shot instead.

"To you and your little girl," toasted Sirius, lifting his glass and knocking it back in tandem with Harry.

"Cheers," said Harry when he'd finally stopped coughing. Sirius thumped him on the back.

"So a girl, eh," said Sirius.

"Yeah," Harry said, his eyes going wide. "What in the world am I going to do with a little girl?"

"Tea parties at some point, but we've also been known to enjoy the odd book or two," came a dry voice from the doorway. Hermione smirked at Harry. "Harry if she's anything like Ginny do you think you'll be that out of your depth? Not sure about her brothers though." Both her and Sirius smirked at the grimace that crossed Harry's face, and then their eyes locked.

"Well, er, I'd better go join the party," Harry said, awkwardly. Sirius handed him the bottle wordlessly, his eyes never leaving his witch.

"Hey," said Hermione coquettishly, once Harry had scurried out.

"Hey yourself," Sirius said, flicking his eyes over her body. She pretended not to notice, walking over to the pantry and rummaging for something. He had the perfect view of her arse, and he was sure she knew it. He scrubbed a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. "You're playing with fire love," he said.

"Who, me?" she said with feigned innocence, emerging from the pantry with two gigantic bags of crisps, using one sandled foot to knock the door closed behind her. _Orange polish,_ he thought, looking at her feet. Her toes looked like little sweets.

His eyes snapped back to hers, noting with annoyance the smug grin she wore. _Alright then love. Two can play this game._ He pushed his elbows back, leveraging himself off the counter he'd been leaning against, knowing that it did things to his t-shirt that made her hot and bothered. He walked towards her slowly, grinning inwardly at the faltering bravado in her body language. Closer and closer he came, until he was so close she had nowhere to go and was pressed against the kitchen counter. There was a loud crunching sound as one of the packets of crisps was heedlessly squashed between them. He could see the quick movement of her chest, the way her eyes looked up at him with anticipation. He stared deeply back into them, licking his bottom lip... before reaching up to open a cupboard door above her head. "Excuse me," he said cheerily, before removing several more shot glasses, closing the cupboard and swaggering out the door. He heard the frustrated huff she made just as he left the house and grinned to himself.

He knew she was taunting him, seeing how far she could push him before he caved and claimed her completely. A few weeks ago the idea would have made him anxious, but now he saw it for what it could be, and he was determined that when it came to it, she would be desperate for him. Well, that's if he wasn't desperate as well, he thought, surreptitiously rearranging himself.

* * *

**A/N: **How long can they keep this up?


	16. Chapter Sixteen: Potions and Plans

**Disclaimer: **All canon characters, places, plots and situations from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from this.

**Warnings: **Rated M for language, violence and scenes of a sexual nature.

**A/N: **Thanks for your reviews on the last chapters, especially to **gypsyfurface **and **shealone** for your encouragements. Ok so it's been almost a week since my last update, which is not what I was aiming for but at least it's good news for me – I got the job! Unfortunately this means that updates will be further apart as I'll have less time to write. I don't want to rush through and give you guys a half-baked story, not when we've come this far! *rallying cry, hoping you'll all be distracted from what I just said* x

oOoOoOo

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

Please note this chapter may include scenes of a sexual nature, including implied sexual activity as well as highly descriptive language, so if that's not your thing, move along.

oOoOoOo

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: Potions and Plans  
**

oOoOoOo

August crawled by slowly. Hermione was having a better time with work; Baric had left, which automatically made things a lot more pleasant. He hadn't spoken to her since the incident with Sirius, actually going out of his way if it meant not bumping into her. An although she was back elbow deep in paperwork, at least this time it was follow-up to making actual, real progress.

She had discovered that with daily practice, doing specific actions wandlessly strengthened her ability to do the same ones more easily the next time. She could only practice a little at a time though, to be careful with her magic. Her visit to Ollivander had left her with a few theories about how magic needed to be channeled, and the part that their wands played in doing this. By harnessing elemental magics - earth magics - that spoke to the magical signature of a person, the wand acted as a conduit for spells and charms. Wandless magic could be quite dangerous, Ollivander had said, because it was chaotic and unpredictable. "Imagine the accidental magic of a young child, but with the power of a fully developed witch or wizard," the old man had explained. And not only could that kind of magical burst cause destruction, but the witch or wizard would be at risk of bleeding their magical core dry.

Hermione had taken to thinking of her progress with wandless magic like driving. "It's daunting when you start," her father had said. "You have to pay very close attention to so many things at one time, it can be overwhelming, especially because you could cause a lot of damage to yourself and others with something like a car. But over time, with practice, much of it becomes second nature." Of course she never did get a chance to learn to drive, but she could imagine her mother and father, both intellectuals, would have been fascinated and proud to see her work.

Each time she used magic wandlessly, she felt a corresponding pulling sensation as the magic flowed out of her, and afterwards she would be a little winded. How tired she felt depended on the act itself. If she accio'd something a short distance, she might feel like she needed to take a deep breath afterwards. With directing and manipulating the movement of an object - such as trying to make it fly, she would be exhausted afterwards. She had learned her limits when she tried to cast a Stinging Hex and had almost passed out as a result.

Her days were so full and mostly pleasant that the subject of her ongoing nightmares faded in the daylight. It had been months since the last time Greyback had been spotted. The odd Order meeting, when someone had been captured or sighted made her anxious, but those came and went. She spent her nights with Sirius, or if he was on a mission, in her own bed. Sometimes on those nights she would go to sleep in her bed and wake up in his. Mornings would be spent grabbing breakfast together or with the Lupins, and then work. If she had the time she'd meet with Harry or Sirius, or both, for lunch, or go out with Mari. The evenings were peaceful. She could usually be found in the library, fiddling with the Black spell-book - how fascinating was spell-crafting? Maybe that was something she could research next - or reading novels. Other days she went out for her run, happy enough when Sirius was able to join her.

She was musing on her contentment when she noticed Mari had come back from her lunch break with a morose expression. "Are you still fighting?" she asked her friend. Mari just nodded, throwing herself into her chair and dropping her head onto her folded arms dramatically. "I thought you were meeting for lunch to work things out," said Hermione, frowning.

Mari's head shot up. "Oh we met for lunch. We met for lunch so far out of the way I'm surprised we didn't need a portkey to get there!" Severus and Mari were arguing about making their relationship more public. It was simple; Mari wanted to, and Severus didn't. So far, he was winning, but looking at her frustrated, sad friend, Hermione had a feeling that if something didn't happen soon, nobody would be. "He's so secretive," complained Mari, for the umpteetnth time. "Look, I know he used to be a spy, and some habits are hard to break - especially in his case," she conceded. "Did I tell you, the other day he gets a owl right in the middle of dinner - at his house of course, Circe forbid we been seen in public - and he gets up, says "I have to go," and buggers off without so much as a by your leave!"

Oh dear. "When was this, exactly?" asked Hermione. The order had had an impromptu meeting two nights before. When Mari confirmed her suspicions, she sighed heavily, making Mari look at her strangely.

Severus and Hermione were hardly _close,_ but even he deserved to be in a good relationship and Mari was her friend - she didn't deserve to be in the dark about things. How could they at least take some baby-steps into making their relationship public? Hermione thought she'd have gone crazy already if Sirius and her hadn't told some of their friends, and they'd only been in a relationship for almost two months. Gods, almost a year?

Suddenly it came to her, and she could've slapped herself for not thinking of it before. Harry had been talking about new initiates for the Order for weeks now.

"Mari," she said, beaming. "Have you heard of The Order?"

* * *

Remus walked into the Grimmauld kitchen, stopping short at the scene before him. Hermione was sitting at the breakfast bar, a book in her hand, and she greeted him breathlessly. Sirius, on the other hand, was elbow deep in washing up water, scrubbing dishes the muggle way.

"Hermione, did you know that book's upside down?" he said, suppressing the urge to laugh out loud when her eyes widened and her cheeks went a bit red. She got up without a sound, looking torn between passing Remus and staying in the potentially even more mortifying situation any longer. In the end she scurried past him, mumbling something about the library.

Remus shook his head. How many times had he walked in on the two of them in a clinch, hands roaming places they had no business going in public.

Sirius was wiping his hands on a tea-towel, watching her retreating form, a quizzical expression on his face.

"You know it's full moon soon, right?" asked Remus, when Sirius had remembered he was there.

"What did you do to Hermione?" asked Sirius. Remus rolled his eyes. Sirius had a smear of lip balm on the side of his mouth.

"Full moon, Pads," he said, tapping the side of his nose. "Also you're both really unconvincing."

"Aw fuck. She'll be embarrassed, which somehow turns into being pissed off at me."

"What the hell are you two doing to each other? It smells like frustration in here." He looked around. "Please tell me you haven't, not on the breakfast bar or the table," he groaned.

"No!" said Sirius. "We haven't yet, not exactly." His eyes dared Remus to make a big deal out of it.

"Merlin. Why not?" said Remus mildly, although his mind boggled.

Sirius slapped his thigh with the dishtowel. "Because - well we _were_ taking it slow, but also because we've hardly had private time together. What with work and night shifts and living in a house that's like a train station most of the time…"

"Mate. Friday is full moon so I'll be out of the house and Dora and Teddy can spend the night at her mum's. Thursday is the Order meeting, so Friday just close the Floo off –"

"What if someone needs to use headquarters?"

"Sirius, just do it. I'll think of something, but for Merlin's sake, put that girl - and yourself - out of your misery. If the two of you explode, there'll _be_ no headquarters."

* * *

"Did it not occur to you that perhaps I would have been the better person to initiate Mari?" hissed Severus.

"You, should have initiated her _months_ ago," Hermione retorted.

"You told her about me being–" he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"What was I supposed to do? Wait until she got here and then, oh yes, welcome our little war party and by the way, your boyfriend is a part of it and that's where he's been disappearing off to?" She waved her arms. "Here he is, skulking in the shadows like always!"

He was sulking. Her ex-Professor, who scared children and small animals everywhere, was sulking. "She's not talking to me," he mumbled.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" hissed Hermione, taking the sleeve of his robe and dragging him into a room further away from where the Order members were currently socialising after their meeting.

Severus glared at her and she scoffed. "Yes, that doesn't scare me anymore," she said. She mimic'd Mari's voice. "Oh his eyes, dark, obsidian, Merlin, the way he looks at me when we –"

"Alright alright, shut up!" Severus said, looking horrified. Then his expression turned smug. "How would you like it if I went out there and outed you and your mongrel?" he said. It was Hermione's turn to be horrified.

"You can't," she said nervously. "That's different."

"Do tell –"

"You were going to lose her!" blurted Hermione. "Sirius and I... we're taking things slow."

Severus looked surprised. "How strange, considering what a reckless imbecile Black normally is," he sneered.

"Yes, and you are at the complete opposite end of that spectrum," she said, ignoring the slur. "Perhaps it would do you good to take a leaf out of his book and try something different? For example, right now you're standing here with me, arguing about Sirius while your witch is in that room being ogled by, well, a number of single wizards and a witch or two."

His eyes widened, his jaw twitching, and before she could take another breath he turned in a dramatic swirl of robes and stalked out of the room, Hermione close on his heels.

The kitchen was full of Order members standing or sitting in little clusters, the tea service getting a proper workout from Molly Weasely. At the other end of the kitchen Mari was speaking animatedly with the Lupins and Sirius, and noticed when Severus and Hermione appeared in the doorway. She looked at her boyfriend, then looked cooly away, continuing with her conversation. In four flat strides, Severus crossed the kitchen, grabbed Mari by the waist, turned her to him and kissed her so passionately that the two of them almost fell over.

The kitchen went silent, and it was only a quick shake of the head that stopped Hermione's friends from attacking the Potions Master. George's jaw was hanging open, and Molly looked like she'd been hit with a Stunner. Quite a few eyebrows had gone up.

When the odd couple came up for air, Severus looked around, Mari still clutching his robes, looking dazed. His cheeks were flushed red, giving him an uncharacteristically boyish air.

"In case anyone was not aware," he said, his mellifluous voice a little breathless, "this is my witch." Mari was smiling up at him with shining eyes. At his proclaimation she grabbed him by the neck and drew him back down into a kiss.

There were a few hurrumphs, throat clearing and coughs before everyone else turned back to their conversations, trying to ignore the surly ex-Professor bring practically devoured by his paramour in the corner.

"You've got to be kidding me," whispered George, his eyes still like saucers. Luna looked up at him and did something behind him that made the redhead yelp and jump.

* * *

"I can't believe you didn't tell me," said Sirius, after everyone had left and the fire in the kitchen was dying down. It was just the two of them left at the kitchen table, steaming hot cups of tea in hand. "She looks... so _normal." _Hermione thumped him on the arm. "Ow! What was that for?"

"She's my friend!"

"She's dating Snivel–"

"Don't even."

Sirius sulked. "Next you'll tell me you've got the hots for the old bat too."

Hermione latched onto his arm, cuddling up to him and laying her head against his shoulder as they looked into the embers of the fire. "Don't be silly. You're the only old bat for me."

"Hey!" He buried his nose in her hair and breathed in deeply, making her scalp tickle a little.

"I would have told you," she said, "but it wasn't my secret to tell. Besides, they're keeping ours too, don't forget that." She ignored his snort. "You like Mari though?"

"Apart from her taste in wizards?"

"Yes." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"She's nice," he said, looking down at her. "That's another thing, you've mentioned her before but I didn't realise you were that good friends."

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip before speaking. "It's not that I've purposefully been hiding Mari," she said, turning to look up at him, her breath catching when their eyes made contact. Would it always feel this... magnetic? "But neither have I been particularly open about her with the others. Or you. I'm sorry," she said. "I've just done it for so long that I didn't think about it when we got together."

"But why the secrecy at all?"

"It might sound silly, but I think it's been nice having someone to myself, if that makes sense? Everyone we know, we've known for years, and there's so much baggage and history. When I spend time with Mari I feel like all that... stuff gets put to the side for a minute. I can just be a girl with her girlfriend."

Sirius nodded thoughtfully. "That makes sense," he said. "I can't imagine what it's been like for you all."

There was an openness that had developed between them faster in the last two months, and for the first time in a long time, Hermione just let her words come without censure. She felt safe.

"A couple of years ago, there was this guy, after Ron and I finished," she said. "I wasn't heartbroken about Ron but it was disappointing because there'd been so much expectation and I think we disappointed a lot of people too. In hindsight of course it doesn't matter, but at the time it was all so new. Ron started dating Eva soon afterwards, and I was happy for him, but the papers were shredding us. Ron's always been good at coping with the publicity. I think after seeing what fame was like for Harry in school, he realised he didn't want much to do with it, and he was so wrapped up in his family - you know how they are, always something to do, and it was still hard then, for everyone, with Fred gone."

She felt his reassuring hand on her back. "It wasn't like that for me," she said. "I know it sounds ungrateful since they've been like a second family to me, but they weren't _mine _and with the boys going their own ways, getting married... I felt alone. And as bad as the gossip and papers were about Harry or Ron, they do tend to be even less supportive of witches," she said bitterly, remembering.

"So at first there were all these articles about my broken heart, about being left to become an old maid. Even that we'd broken up because of problems in the bedroom." The hand on her back paused briefly in its rubbing before starting up again. "So that was hard, but then I met Henry. It was at a benefit for orphans from the war, and Henry was there as a supporter. He was nice, and long story short, I was thinking this was it, I'd never felt this way with Ron before. Everyone around me was getting married, starting to have children... and I thought he felt the same way. I thought he really, really cared for me, that was, until I found out that he was more interested in racking up the celebrity notches on his bedpost. It turned out Henry was actually Jacque, or Emmanuel, or Peter or Kian - depending on who he was seducing at the time."

"Fucker," breathed Sirius.

She snorted in agreement. "And so I broke up with him, which he didn't appreciate at all, seeing as I was technically the highest he'd climbed up the social ladder at that point. So when the papers went sniffing, he was all too ready to tell them about how I was a prude, how I didn't know how to have fun, how even my best friends found me stuffy. It was a really difficult time," she admitted. "I thought a lot about how much I wanted it all to end. My parents were gone, everyone was moving on with their lives and I was alone, and best of all, I believed everything he said about me. Now I realise that I wasn't in the right headspace then, but some of that has never left me."

"Hermione, is that why you won't let me..." She frowned. "I've just never had a good experience with that," she admitted. "Ron tried but it was so uncomfortable. And others... I don't know, maybe I'm just not wired that way." He stroked her hair. "It felt nice sometimes. But not that nice," she said.

"One day you're going to let me," said Sirius. "And I promise you it'll be good." She glanced up at him, a little shy and troubled. He cupped her chin. "Sweetheart I'll never do anything you don't want me to do. And if you tell me to stop, I will. But I want to use my mouth to make you feel as good as you do me." Her cheeks coloured. "Anyway," he said, all businesslike again. "You were saying?" He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the dying fire, bringing it up to a comfortable level again.

It took her a moment to remember what she'd been talking about before.

"Mari, she's not a social climber," said Hermione. "She really loves Severus, and I think for all his coldness and aloofness, Severus really loves her. I didn't want him to lose that because of fear and I didn't want her to get her heart broken because of what some assholes are going to say."

Sirius pulled her into his arms, kissing her on the head. "You're so sweet my witch," she felt the rumble of his voice on her head. "Thank you for telling me about that," he said. "Do you think it's strange that I'm happy with just our little crowd?" he asked.

Hermione smiled. "No," she said. "I think you've missed a lot of time with the people you love, and we're your family too. It makes sense that you want some normalcy and this is where you belong. Anyway, it's not like it's easy for either of us to go off making new friends," she said dryly.

There was a subtle shift in his eyes, something intriguing and a little bit scary. "What is it?" she asked. Had she said something wrong? In response, he ran a hand up into her hair, cradling her head with his fingers threaded through her curls, and leaned down to kiss her deeply. The kiss itself wasn't aggressive, but heavily loaded with something else that tugged at the deepest part of her, making her feel like she had just reached the precipice of the highest rollercoaster in the world, and was about to tip over. Her heart pounding, she reached for his sides, fisting her hands in his shirt. "Hermione," he murmured against her lips, and rested his forehead against hers. Her eyes still shut, she felt the puffs of breath they exchanged as they dwelled in the moment.

This wasn't lust, this moment. This was something else, something that she felt would disintegrate if she looked directly at it, so she kept her eyes closed instead. Little did she know that Sirius was doing the same.

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks for reading. As always please review and let me know what you like/dislike, would like to see etc.


	17. Chapter Seventeen: Match Meet Gasoline

**Disclaimer: **All canon characters, places, plots and situations from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from this.

**Warnings: **Rated M for language, violence and scenes of a sexual nature in later chapters.

**A/N: **This chapter contains hot hot heat, a.k.a smutty smut-smut.If you don't like that kind of stuff, don't read it and then complain cause ya learned something new.

oOoOoOo

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

Please note this chapter may include scenes of a sexual nature, including implied sexual activity as well as highly descriptive language, so if that's not your thing, move along.

oOoOoOo

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen: Match Meet Gasoline  
**

oOoOoOo

Harry stepped through the doorway into the DMLE, his eyes immediately going to his godfather across the floor. He jerked his head at Sirius, indicating for him to see him in his office. A few minutes later the taller Auror had stepped into his office and Harry locked and spelled the door for privacy.

"So what exactly happened?" he asked Sirius, who was already bouncing on his heels. Harry had had an angry floo call earlier in the morning, after something had happened to Sirius and Hermione on their morning run. "Start from the beginning and Sirius, calm down. Take a seat," said Harry kindly, guiding his godfather by his shoulder to a chair and perching on the edge of his desk.

"We went for a run," said Sirius. "Hermione usually goes in the evenings after work, but we haven't been able to do one together in a while so we went this morning instead, and thank Merlin I was there."

Something had felt off from the beginning, Sirius told Harry, but couldn't peg what it was. The couple ran for a while until Hermione needed to stop to retie her shoelaces. They'd stopped just off the path, under a tree, and that's when Sirius' instincts kicked in. "The hairs stood up on the back of my neck, and I don't know why but I looked up and saw it; a big black raven perched on the branch right above us, and it was _staring. _Harry, I promise you, I'm not easily frightened but it scared the hell out of me. I don't think I've ever turned into Padfoot that fast."

He'd managed to attack the bird, injuring it's left wing, but it got away. "The thing is, Harry, Hermione doesn't normally run in the mornings, with or without me. Which means whoever it was, they've been watching us. They would have had to have seen us leave Grimmauld."

Harry's heart sunk. He'd always had a soft spot for Hermione, thinking of her as the sister he never had. Over the years it had become difficult to seperate his relationship with her from best friend, to brother. Either aspect of him hated the idea that she was possibly being targeted but it was his brotherly instinct that came out in full force. "How's Hermione doing?" he asked.

"She was shaken, but we parted ways in the Atrium she was doing okay. I think I managed to convince her that whatever's going on with this bird, it's probably to do with me since it showed up at my bedroom window the first time. I told her it's probably to do with my Auror work. She's not happy about that either, obviously, but she seemed more angry than scared about it." Sirius scratched his knee. "What do you think we're looking at?" he asked lightly, such a cautiously hopeful look on his face that Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

"Stick with that," he said. "It's possible that it _was _for you. Remember Mitchells was attacked last week and Jordan the week before. Both small incidents, not much bigger than yours, and they've both being making a lot of arrests as well. Not the bird," he added, before Sirius could ask. "So that's what we say at the next Order meeting. Regardless, we don't have a raven Animagus on record. I'm sure if it was any of the big fish we'd have some intel on that by now. It must be someone working with them."

"Civilian?" said Sirius, frowning. They had come across some Pureblood sympathisers on their missions who were clear out of their minds, but never actively attacking Aurors and Order members.

"Could be. Thinking it's more like an underling. With Voldemort gone, someone - probably more than one of them - in this lot must be vying for top dog position. We've been picking up a lot of small-time additions to the Dark side. Could be one of those."

Sirius let out a long, low breath, running his fingers through his hair.

"Look," said Harry. "The best thing you can do for the both of you is carry on as normal. Stay vigilant of course, but Hermione should be doing that too, as an Order member. If you act nervous though, she'll pick up on that. Why don't you guys do something together this evening, go see a muggle movie or something?" he asked. "You liked that the last time."

Sirius shifted in his chair, his focus suddenly shifting. "Ah, yes, well, we've already got plans so it shouldn't be too difficult to distract us."

"Oh yes! Actually I remember, Remus mentioned it. Well I hope everything goes well!" said Harry, wondering why Sirius froze up briefly, looking at him rather strangely.

"Um, thanks?" said his godfather. Grey eyes looked everywhere except directly at Harry, and Harry was just about to ask him what was going on when a delivery owl pecked at his door, and the conversation was dropped.

* * *

On the cool, darkened ninth floor of the Ministry, Hermione was at her desk, steadily working her way through a pile of research. The Department of Mysteries was always pin-drop silent unless and experiment was taking place, and even then, it was usually relegated to one of the testing rooms. Hermione though the silence would make her dwell on what had happened that morning, but it was actually so peaceful and absorbing that she declined morning tea out, asking Mari to bring her a sandwich on the way back instead.

Despite the events of that morning, about which she felt both scared and furious - how dare anyone threaten Sirius? - she couldn't help but feel distracted by the prospect of the evening ahead. Sirius had told her Remus 'suggestion', and though she'd been a little embarassed, she was more relieved and excited than anything else. Thinking about it made her shift in her chair though, and she found herself curling a lock of hair around a finger more than once.

Just then the door opened and Marietta stepped through, wisps of her blonde hair plastered to her forehead, her robes windswept. "Raining out?" asked Hermione quizzically. Apart from their incident, the morning weather had predicted a rather nice day.

"Nope," said Mari, and Hermion pegged.

"If I told you I'd have to Obliviate you," they chorused as one.

"But I do have something for you," said Mari excitedly, reaching into her robe pocket and pulling out a small roll of parchement. "There was an owl waiting outside for you, with this." She handed over the roll, practically humming with intrigue. "It looks like a love letter." Hermione arched an eyebrow at Mari as she hovered next to her.

"Do you mind?" she said, laughing when Mari pouted a little and took a few steps back to lean against her own desk. Even though she was aware of her co-worker's eyes on her, Hermione couldn't help a secretive smile when she pulled the red binding ribbon and opened the thick, creamy parchment to reveal a note written in Sirius' beautiful cursive. It was a skill he bemoaned as the result of growing up nearly royal, but Hermione loved it. Looped across the paper were two short sentences:

_Join me for a sinfully leisurely lunch?_

_I'll be waiting in the Atrium. _

He'd written it as a question, but Hermione knew it was just a formality. And he'd signed the parchment _Jack Sparrow_, the cheeky git. She smiled, her heart beating a thrilled tattoo against her chest, and began packing her things up immediately.

"Well?!" said Marietta. "Don't leave me in suspense here! Is it what I think it is? Is it a Hot Date?" she said with an exaggerated wink, and Hermione rolled her eyes at her, unable to wipe the grin off her own face.

"You could say that," she said, picking up her bag.

"So mysterious Hermione," joked Marietta.

"Well we are Unspeakables darling," Hermione shot back as she left the room.

"I expect a full report Monday morning," called Mari after her, sniggering. "Post practical research! Measurable results!"

She entered the Atrium, casting her eyes about until she spotted her wizard. He drew a handsome figure in his Auror robes, his locks in glossy waves and his jaw stubbled. She admired him as she approached him, her heart singing with the knowledge that tonight, her thoughts would not be leaving her wanting. Sirius looked composed, but she recognised the darkness in his grey eyes and knew he was just as affected as she.

The restaurant he'd chosen was a small Italian family-owned place in a comfortably busy muggle area. They were seated outside, and were enjoying second glasses of wine after a scrumptious, sinfully long afternoon lunch - just as Sirius had promised. As it was heading towards the end of summer and into autumn, the air was a little chillier, the trees on the verge of turning. As a gentle breeze ruffled through their hair, the pair exchanged little knowing smiles and touches.

At a table near them, another couple were having an obvious Romantic Date. The man handed the woman a rose, kissing her knuckled. He topped her wine up, then pulled out a piece of paper and whispered something in her ear that made her giggle.

Sirius nodded slightly towards them. "Is that what you want?" he asked Hermione. "Wine and flowers and poetry?" he asked her.

"No," she said, smirking. "I like whatever you do." He jumped as he felt her small, stockinged foot inching up the inside of his calf and reached down to grab the offending body part.

"Saucy wench," he growled under his breath, and she laughed. "I believe you're trying to seduce me Miss. Granger." His strong fingers massaged the instep of her sole and she let out a small moan, butterflies gathering in her stomach at the thought of those fingers on other parts of her body.

"Are you full?" he asked her suddenly serious, his eyes betraying his anxiety to have her home and in his bed.

"I could eat you all up," she said in response, shivering when he pushed her foot against the inside of his thigh.

"That's it!" he said, getting up and smashing a handful of muggle money onto the table, at least twenty pounds too much. "We're going home."

* * *

Waiting for Tonks to get out of the house was pure torture. Knowing exactly what she was doing, the Metamorphagus took her time getting things together for Teddy's and her stay over at her mother's. By the time the two Lupins were actually on their way out the front door, Sirius and Hermione were hovering around the entrance-way, rather obviously.

"My goodness, what a reception," teased Tonks, ignoring her cousin's scowl. "Well I hope you both have a very good night," she said, winking. "Just not on the kitchen counter, mind you." They said their goodbyes, leaving through the front door, Teddy's little voice jabbering away until the door closed behind them and everything was quiet once more.

"Well," said Hermione. "Kitchen counter indeed. No sense of decorum whatsoever."

"Very uncouth," Sirius agreed. "It's not like we can't control ourselves or anything." \

The two of them shared a look, and then he was pressing her up against the wall right there besides the closed front door. They were kissing so passionately that they knocked a small portrait clear off the wall and it's inhabitant complained bitterly. Sirius shoved it aside with his foot, ignoring the tiny yells coming from the dour old wizard in the frame. "I'm your great great grand-uncle, you uncultured twit!" it yelled.

Then they were suddenly upstairs in his bedroom, and Hermione would've thought they'd Apparated if she didn't know it wasn't possible in the house. She closed the door behind them and watched as Sirius flustered around. "What in the world are you looking for?" she asked, and he mumbled something about candles. She sighed.

"Sirius. I'm not some little virgin. I don't need roses and candles and soft music. I want you. As for foreplay... I think the last several months have been enough, don't you?"

He stilled for a beat, looking at her blankly, the said, "Oh thank fuck." He began pulling his shirt off wildly and she laughed, a tinkling sound that filled the room as she got to work on her own clothes. Sirius pulled off his jeans and boxers in one go, nearly tripping over them, and his penis bobbed free so hard it smacked his stomach with a 'thwack' – they were both laughing at the sheer desperation of it all. Hermione was standing against the side of the bed in nothing more than her underwear, her lip between her teeth as she looked over her wizard with unbridled hunger.

Sirius strode towards her, two long strides and he was unhooking her bra, looking down at her with eyes as dark as ink. She sat on the bed, moving backwards until she was propped up on her elbows, watching his eyes wander over her bare skin, down to her knickers visibly soaked with desire. With a mischievous smirk, he grabbed her hips, yanking her towards his so she fell flat on her back. She squealed, giggling and he grinned at her, admiring the way her breasts bounced. He wasted no time in getting on the bed, and hooked his fingers into the sides of her knickers, pulling them off in one motion and flinging them heedleslly behind him.

Sirius mouth watered at the sight and scent of her completely bare before him. "You've got such a pretty pussy," he breathed, sliding one finger over her and groaning at how wet she was, how she gasped as he grazed her clit. He leaned down, capturing her mouth in a hard, greedy kiss, and then she was giving back as good as she got, sliding her hot little tongue into his mouth and any ideas he had about taking it slow were quickly ebbing away.

He ran his hands and eyes all over her, unable to choose. He was cupping the curves of her waist, rubbing his thumbs over the smooth flesh of her stomach as he dove to lick at her nipples, inflamed by her uninhibited moans of pleasure. Meanwhile, she dug her nails into his back, leaving little half-moon scratches in his skin. He licked, nibbled and sucked his way down from her lips, over her neck and breasts, but then her hand was in his hair, tugging him up.

She looked up at him, his beautiful face full of want, his mouth open and panting with questioning eyes. "Don't make me wait any more," she said throatily. "I want you inside me," she whispered. He licked his bottom lip, raking his eyes over her face as he gripped his cock and slid it between her folds, covering himself in her wetness before slipping down further. He pushed into her bit by bit, making them both moan and gasp with every new inch, and he couldn't hold back the cry when Hermione wrapped her legs loosely around his waist, letting him sink quickly and fully into her tightness. All the blood in his body rushed to the place they were connected and the instinct to thrust took over.

"Oh, yes," moaned Hermione, and by the noises of pleasure she was making, the twist of her lovely face, he knew she was right there in that moment with him.

"I want to see," he said and changed positions, kneeling while he held her legs around his waist and she raised herself up on her elbows. He was panting, a fine sheen of sweat over his taut belly and chest and his cock was deliciously thick. She had never felt this _full _before.

The first thrust in this new position had her almost falling back; he hit a spot inside her that made the edges of her vision go black and she cried out. "Oh gods, babe," he moaned, in response. She moved her eyes between his face and where he pushed in and out; there was something exciting and naughty about the way he was mesmerised by the sight of them joining. A few minutes of this was too intense, and he dropped forward again, tucking his face beside her into her neck.

They settled into a quickly building rythymn that had them both crying and gasping each time he bottomed out, grinding into her as her hips lifted greedily towards his. The erotic sound of their coupling, skin on skin and the creak of the overtaxed bed filled the room for long minutes as they tried to prolong their pleasure even as they rushed towards their conclusion.

Sirus was close, trying hard to hold out to make sure Hermione had her pleasure. He felt the squeeze of her sleeve around his cock now and then, and the expression her face told him she was climbing. He grimaced with effort. "Babe, I'm gonna come." He nipped at her neck, harder as their passion spiralled out of control.

"Yes," she cried, driven to the pinnacle of excitement . "Inside me," she managed to get out, and he came so hard it almost hurt, grunting as he shot into her with every pulse of his orgasm. "Hermione, gods, yes baby. Fuck!"

And then she was right there with him and the sight and feel of her entire body arching up, gasping, moaning and shuddering, squeezing around him as she gripped the sheets with one hand and his bicep with the other, drew his own pleasure out and he ground into her desperately.

Eventually they slowed, falling to their sides even as they remained joined and panting. He stroked her face; they were both trembling from exertion and emotions. That moment lingered, fragile between them as they shared breath. "Wow," he croaked, stroking her hair. Hermione smiled, that secret smile she kept only for him. "Mmm."

Any thoughts about post-coital cuddling or chatting went out the window; after such an ethusiastic coming together after so many months of wanting, they both drifted into asleep almost immediately, tangled together in his king-sized bed. They awoke some hours later, in the dark. "Again?" said Hermione, as he ran his lips over her neck in open-mouthed kisses. "You never have to ask, sweetheart," he groaned, and for the rest of the night the world was narrowed down to just the two of them in their bed.

* * *

"Sirius!" said Molly, smiling up at him. They were all over at the Burrow for a Sunday lunch. It was the first Sunday in a long while that almost everyone had been able to make the afternoon. "I've been wondering what the renovations are," asked the plump, short witch. Sirius wrinkled his face up in bewilderment. "Eh?"

"Remus said you closed Grimmauld off Friday night to sort out some important renovations."

_Thanks a lot, Moony. _

"Er yeah, we er, moved some paintings," he said, at a complete loss, casting his eyes about in the hopes of finding a small child that needed immediate adult attention. Unfortunately, even Albus was passed out in George's arms.

"Moving paintings?" repeated Molly, her brow wrinkling alarmingly. Just as he was thinking about confessing, Sirius smelled coconut, and Hermione entered his little private hell.

"That, and we did some extension work on the upstairs bedrooms," said Hermione smoothly. "Took hours, we were simply exhausted by the end of it."

Sirius eyebrows went up and he tried so hard to suppress the bark of laughter that it came out as a little 'toot' instead, and then he really started sniggering.

"Really Sirius, you need to drink a little more tea and a little less Firewhiskey," admonished Molly. She turned to Hermione. "Well that sounds lovely Hermione, I'd love to see it sometime. I'd be happy to help if you ever need my assistance. I'm quite handy at extension spells you know."

Tears were forming in the corners of Sirius' eyes.

"Um, of course Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione, using the cover of their arms to jab Sirius in the side. There was a hiss, and the sniggering stopped abruptly.

Suddenly Ginny entered the living room, her face ashen, her arms curved protectively around her belly. James was clinging to her leg. "Ginny? Darling what's wrong, is it the baby?" said Mrs. Weasley, a little hysterically. Sirius shared a worried glance with Hermione.

"No," said Ginny. "I just got a Patronus. Harry's been attacked."

* * *

A/N: We go high, we go low...


	18. Chapter Eighteen: Living every Moment

**Disclaimer: **All canon characters, places, plots and situations from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from this.

**Warnings: **Rated M for language, violence and scenes of a sexual nature in later chapters.

**A/N: **So... hi. I thought I'd just sneak in and leave this here, but it isn't that easy, lol. To those who are still following, thank you and I'm so sorry it's been so long. My new job ate my life. I'm more settled in now, but the workload is intense so I don't want to make any promises about updates. I do have this entire story planned out and most of it written, so it will be updated.

Thanks for your reviews so far, I'd love to know how you feel about this chapter since I've come back to the story after a big break.

Enough of my blabber, onto the characters we love.

oOoOoOo

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

Please note this chapter includes scenes of a sexual nature, and suggestive language.

oOoOoOo

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen: Living every Moment**

oOoOoOo

"Lllm." Hermione awoke in the middle of the night to find herself spooned around her wizard, who was mumbling in his sleep. "Jaayy…Nuh…" He jerked violently. Her arm was clammy where it hugged to his sweaty chest. Blinking, she leaned up to peer over at him. His forehead was dripping with sweat, black locks stuck to his skin in clumps.

"Sirius, wake up," whispered Hermione, rubbing his arm. He just mumbled.

"No no no, Harry! I didn't, I didn't," he sobbed suddenly, and Hermione gasped, shaking his shoulder more roughly. "Wake up!"

His eyes popped open and Sirius bolted upright, his hand immediately shooting out for his wand. Hermione flinched, but he stopped hard and just stared at her, as though confused, then looked around the room, his chest rising and falling heavily. She gingerly laid a hand on his arm, and he turned back to her. The raw grief in his eyes made her own eyes burn. She stroked damp hair back, away from his face. "It's okay," she said. "Harry's going to be okay."

Sirius nodded and fell back, staring up at the ceiling, his throat working.

Hermione rubbed her eyes. Harry had been hurt, and even from the little she'd heard, she could guess what Sirius had been dreaming about. "You carry too much guilt," she murmured, but if he'd heard her, he didn't say. The last few hours had been some of the most intense that she'd experienced since the war.

Harry had been on a mission with a small team of Aurors when they'd been ambushed. It wasn't even meant to be a sting, just a routine investigation of the neighbourhoods that had come up in their searches frequently.  
It happened when a rookie, Peterson, went in the wrong direction and Harry had to go after him. The two were cornered by three masked wizards, and though Harry had intercepted curse after curse, they'd been overwhelmed. By the time the rest of the team caught up with them, Harry and his rookie were both under Crucio.

Peterson wasn't in the best condition, but he was lucid enough to explain what had happened. Harry, on the other hand, had been attacked by two of the wizards at the same time, and for a few of the more horrid hours of their lives, none of them knew if he would ever wake up again.

The wait at St. Mungos was agonizing. Everyone refused to go home, and Albus and James clung to their mother, refusing even the attention of their grandmother. Ginny, ever the epitome of strength, had held her boys to her, her eyes red-rimmed but dry.

When, after a few hours, the Healer came out to tell them that Harry had woken up and that they were positive about his prognosis. Ginny had then burst into tears, which set Albus off wailing, which overwhelmed James who began bawling and would only be comforted by Sirius. The relief was palpable, but so was the fear.

Only Ginny would be allowed in to see Harry then, so the rest of them made their way back to their respective homes. Sirius had been deathly quiet from the moment the four residents of Grimmauld returned home by Floo, and they'd dressed for bed in an exhausted silence.

Hermione looked down at the man beside her. His eyes were growing heavy, and she gently stroked his hair back, the motion lulling him back to sleep.

* * *

Sirius didn't have clear memories of the night he'd discovered James and Lily dead, and Harry gone. All he had was flashes and a deep, lingering sense of failure. Sometimes he forgot about it, and managed to live in the moment; Hermione was helping with that. Other times it was all he could do, going over his deficiencies trying to figure out how not to be… him.

Harry came back to work two weeks after the incident, looking a bit pale still, but in good spirits. Sirius tried not to fuss over his godson like a mother-hen, especially at the DMLE, but each time he saw Harry's face, so like James and with those unmistakably Lily eyes, he wanted to hold on and never let go. This was only tempered by the fact that they were still at odds about how to handle the Hermione and Greyback situation.

"Look, I know we're doing a lot, it's not a case of the DMLE not doing our job, this is about Hermione. Our friend. My girlfriend," said Sirius to Harry, the two of them talking earnestly in a corner of the Burrow's living room, the bustle of Sunday activities around them. "I feel like I've got my hands tied behind my back, but I also feel like if we don't tell her, it's worse than if we do."

"Trust me," said Harry, exasperated. "Will she be pissed when she finds out? Yeah, I would put galleons on it. But it'll also be over. She won't have to think about it after she's had her rant." Sirius huffed with frustration.

"No, I get that Harry, I do," he said. "But look what's happening. Things are not getting any less dangerous. Look at what happened with you–"

"That was an ambush," said Harry firmly.

"Harry, if I'd lost you… if I lost Hermione because I didn't–"

"You boys alright here in the corner or do I have to start looking for mischief?" Hermione raised an eyebrow at them. She was holding one mug of steaming hot chocolate, with another two floating ahead of her with wandless magic.

"Impressive," said Harry, grabbing one of the cups out of the air, while Sirius took the other.

"Thanks love," said Sirius, almost leaning in to kiss Hermione on the hair before he noticed her widening eyes and remembered where they were.

"Just Auror stuff," said Harry, smiling at his best friend, and Hermione narrowed her eyes slightly.

"Hmmyes, alright. But don't let Mrs. Weasley hear you." She turned at the call of her name. "Coming!" she said loudly. "See you boys later," she said, and disappeared back into the the sea of Weasleys.

"You might as well be advertising," said Harry with amusement, and Sirius turned to him.

"Sorry?"

"Pretty sure staring at Hermione's bum is a giveaway. When are you two telling everyone else?"

Sirius rubbed a finger against the smoothness of the porcelain mug. The truth was, he didn't know. To start with, it had been about giving themselves a chance to see what this thing between them was without the pressure of everyone else. But Sirius was also nervous about how the other older adults would react, as well as the wizarding world at large. He didn't know which was worse, his age or reputation.

"I don't know," he confessed to Harry. "I really don't. It's so difficult, once this gets out…"

"I understand," said Harry sympathetically. "Things will change. But Sirius it's never going to be a good time when it comes to other people. They'll have their opinions no matter what you do. Just remember the people who matter, care for and support you and Hermione." Sirius nodded.

"Oh 'Arry, it eez so good to be seeing you, looking so well!" Fleur appeared, leaning in to kiss her brother-in-law, and then, to his own surprise, Sirius as well. "I am so sorree to be disturbing your conversation," she said to Sirius, "but can I be stealing zis one for a few minutes? Bill and I iz having something to talk about wiz him, and it looks like if we don't now, we won't get a chance to." She nodded in the direction of Louie, fast asleep on his father's shoulder, his sister tugging tiredly at Bill's shirt.

"Of course," said Sirius, shuddering as he watched Harry being dragged into what he liked to call 'the circle of sticky fingers'. He leaned against the side of the fireplace, watching the little groups and conversation happening all around. Hermione was speaking animatedly with Molly but she caught his eye over the older witch's shoulder and smiled.

He was really lucky, thought Sirius. He hoped he wouldn't fuck it up.

* * *

Sirius wasn't an Auror for nothing; if there's one thing he could do without fail, it was to keep secrets. Keeping this information from Hermione was difficult, but he had thought about it and come to agree with Harry. Let them sort it out, keep her out of it. He would be protecting her from unnecessary pains. But he couldn't just sit by and watch.

Instead, he put extra effort into the time they were spending together on his grandfather's spell book. They had moved on to some of the more offensive curses, having wizened up to using the basement for practice. Hermione never questioned the zeal with which he took her to this task. His little swot was predictably enthralled by the book and the experiments they did together, especially since she could not pick up the book or even flip a page without him.

She mentioned, briefly, that she was surprised they had so much time to spend together recently, but it was a comment in passing and she didn't mention it again. He'd begun to have a sense of guilt when they were together, finding it difficult to separate that part of him that was entirely hers, and the part that was an Auror, and desperate to make up for the mistakes of the past.

As August rolled over into September, the days ticking by, Sirius felt he could relax a little more. He tucked away his Auror duty to Hermione in the background of their lives, a 'constant vigilance' that he did without thinking anyway. Her birthday was approaching and he was wracking his brain for a gift that special but discreet, something he could give to her that wouldn't scream 'lovers' to everyone they hadn't yet told about their relationship.

In the end he bought her a new pair of running shoes, giving it to her along with the others at the birthday lunch they were having at the Burrow. She opened the gift from him carefully, hesitant in front of everyone, and then she'd seen the shoes. They were a pair she'd admired in a shop front window but could not bring herself to spend how much they cost. "Oh thank you Sirius", she exclaimed, genuinely grateful.

"Well your old ones were rather stinky you know-" She gasped, "Bloody charming, and smacked him in the head with a couch cushion and everyone tittered. It was a little cunning, he thought, but it was the kind of thing they would all expect from them, and it did the deal, smoothly passing onto the opening of the next gift, a lovely leather notebook and quill from the Potters.

Much, much later, when they were home and tucked up in his bed, he slid out and brought her the shoebox. "What are you doing?" she asked, but he just grinned, passing her the shoes. "I don't think you've had a good enough look", he said, and she gave him a look of suspicion, taking the shoes from him.

She turned each one around, looking and poking, starting to feel really stupid when she felt something underneath the inner sole of the right shoe. She carefully peeled back the foam padding and something fell out onto the bed.

It was a thin gold anklet, so thin and with many thousands of tiny links that it glimmered in the light and ran like silk between her fingers. Hermione was not a jewellery aficionado in the least, but even she recognised Goblin-made jewellery. The gold was so strong with fine workmanship and magic, it would never, ever snap. It must have cost an absolute fortune. She looked up at him, disbelieving. "Sirius this is beautiful but it's far too much, the shoes alone-" she said.

She saw the nervousness in his eyes, the anticipation of rejection, and she realised that he had probably never given a woman jewellery before, or at least anything of particular value. She swallowed her questions about its significance, instead handing the anklet to him. "Will you put it on for me?" she asked, and his smile could have cracked his face, it was so wide. He moved down the bed and pulled one of her feet into his lap. He fiddled with the tiny clasp, but got it on, kissing the top of her foot on impulse. She giggled, and he crawled back up next to her. They lay on their backs, side by side and she raised her leg, admiring the glint and subtle shimmer around her ankle. "Thank you", she said, and kissed him, and then didn't stop for a while.

All in all, life had been going a little too smoothly since Harry's brush with death, thought Hermione later that night, lying awake in bed with Sirius face tucked in the crook of her neck his breath puffing onto her skin in contented little snores he would vehemently deny the next day. Sirius had actually been sleeping, and so had she, and there hadn't been any attacks on Order members. Harry had fully recovered, and her research was going well. She wanted to have a positive outlook, she really did, but she was cynical.

* * *

"I just have this bad feeling," she told Harry at lunch, later that month.

"Hermione, if there's anything all the crap we've been through – yes, you too – has taught me, its to enjoy the good things in your life when you can. Speaking of which, here comes one of yours."

Hermione turned to see a terribly handsome wizard walking their way. "Hey," Sirius said when he reached the table. "You cheating on me with this specky fellow?" he teased and Hermione wrinkled her nose playfully. She could smell his fragrance from where she was sitting and she had the sudden urge to wrap herself up in it like a cuddly blanket. Metaphorically of course.

"Oi, she's like a sister to me," said Harry. "And what's more, I'm your boss."

"Not on lunch you aren't," grinned Sirius, but thought twice about ruffling Harry's hair in public anyway. He turned to Hermione. "Hey, so I can't make tonight's Order meeting, not sure if Harry mentioned but I'm on call."

Hermione tried to school the worry on her face, but it was a futile attempt to hide her feelings from two of the closest people in her life.

"It's alright, nothing out of the ordinary," said Sirius. "Just patrolling, really." Hermione arched an eyebrow, as though to say, And?

"I'll be okay," pressed Sirius. "I just wanted to let you know that I'll see you later tonight when I get home, so you wouldn't be worried in case my dear godson failed to mention my commitments to you." Harry pulled a piggish face.

"See you soon my love," Sirius said, his eyes warm and soft, looking for all the world like he wanted to touch her, but of course, could not.

"My love," teased Harry as they watched Sirius walk away.

"Oh hush," said Hermione. "I'm enjoying the view," she said, and it was Harry's turn to gag. Besides, It was stupid to get excited over an endearment Sirius used even with strangers, and she said as much.

"No dear, he calls them love, not _my_ love," said Harry smugly.

Somewhere, deep inside Hermione's brain, a few synapses exploded.

Oh. He was right, Sirius did call her that. There she's been, swooning at every 'babe' and 'sweetheart' when he'd been calling her his love. When had it changed?

"You've got that pre-NEWTs expression," chuckled Harry. "Don't think so hard about it, is it really that unlikely to hear that he has feelings for you?"

It wasn't that though. It was the implication of the depth of those feelings, for that word to be used in its intended form by that particular wizard. Did he know he was doing it? Was he ready for that? Was she, for that matter? Oh gods, what if they were moving too fast? They'd only been together for such a short time.

"Stop overthinking," said Harry with a roll of his eyes, bringing her back to the situation by a well-aimed pea to the forehead. It bounced off her and rolled somewhere under the table. Her mouth dropped open in shock.

"Harry James Potter! You are a grown man, you did not just throw food at me!" she said, laughing.

"What can I say, Albus is teaching me bad habits," said Harry, with an exaggerated expression of innocence.

"Blaming a baby," tsked Hermione, looking at him sideways.

"I love you Hermione," Harry said, and Hermione struggled to remember the boy so starved of affection that any expression of love had, for so long, left him scarlet.

"I love you too Harry," she said, wiping at her eyes. Harry passes a spare serviette over to her. "Sorry," she said, honking into the tissue.

"It's alright. I specialise in crying women these days."

"How is Ginny?"

"She's… Ginny. A lot more happening on the inside than the outside, you know? That's what I mean when I talk about taking advantage of good times. While everything is quiet, we're going away this weekend, just me and her. And if something comes up, or something happens before that, then hey," he shrugged, "we can change the plans. But I can't afford to let the possibility of danger stop us from living."

Hermione regarded him admiringly. "You've turned into a very wise man, Harry Potter."

"I know," he said cheekily.

"So where are you taking Gin?"

"Nothing demanding – she's already complaining about her ankles so I've rented a beach house. It's more the being together. The baby's due in November. She's been really frightened since I got attacked," he said. "She holds a lot on her shoulders."

"That she does."

"Anyway. I think it'll do all of us good." He smiled. "Hey, you seen Rosie recently?"

Hermione smiled at the thought of her god-daughter. "Yes, I spent a bit of time with her this weekend, just at Ron's place. She wanted to show me her finger painting set." Hermione grimaced, making Harry laugh. "Well, you can imagine the mess. But she's really cute. And she loves reading, so that was fun."

"You ever think about it?"

"Hmm?"

"Kids. You're such a natural with Rose and our boys."

"Oh! You think so? Um, now and again. I didn't really think it was going to happen for me, but maybe… well it's not really a decision I can make on my own, is it?"

"I think Sirius would be open to the idea."

Hermione blushed at that. "I'm not sure we're there yet. We haven't really talked about it."

"Well," said Harry, as the lunch bell went off, "I just think you'd be a great mum to someone." He hugged Hermione.

"Thank you Harry. See you and Gin soon? Maybe a week or two?"

"Yeah, would be nice to do something just the fours of us. We haven't in a while."

* * *

The Order meeting was boring as all hell and Hermione was glad. Boring meant nothing much was happening, and although she wanted any criminals caught and brought to justice, she also quite fancied the idea of having a boring, safe life, at least for a bit. They were certainly due it.

She noticed Mari and Severus in an intimate conversation, and Mari gave Severus a heated look. The wizards lips tipped up in a meaningful, dry smile, his own eyes becoming piercing.

"Ugh, I think I'm going to be sick," said George.

"Stop looking then," said Hermione with a laugh. "I think it's lovely."

"There's not enough Firewhiskey in the world that could make _that _acceptable," countered George. The two lovebirds had proceeded from canoodling into what appeared to be full on PDA.

"What if we went off and did that?" piped up Luna, and a slow, plotting smile grew on George's face. Hermione shook her head, amused, and bid everyone goodnight.

It was difficult to sleep even after a warm bath and a cup of tea, so she took with her to read. The next thing, the book was being taken out of her hand and she opened her eyes to see Sirius looking warmly down at her.

"Sorry, you fell asleep with it on you and that didn't look very comfortable."

It was true what they said about getting older, Hermione thought. Good looks and stimulating banter were nice and all, but the comfort of domesticity and a _nice _man – whether he believed it or not – was so much more attractive now. She stretched like a cat, watching him rake his eyes over her.

"You tired?" he asked.

"Not actually," she said. "That little nap did me good. How about you? You've been working."

"No, not tired," he said, climbing onto the bed. "Not tired one bit."

Clothes were shed, and soon they were moving together skin on skin. Sirius kissed his way down her body, and she moaned with delight until he reached just under her navel. He felt her tense up, and climbed back up over her. "When will you let me do that?" he asked her, kissing her neck.

"I… just surprise me," she said, and he looked up with arched eyebrows.

"Surprise me," she repeated.

"Ok… and that will make it better because…?" He nibbled on her ear and she shuddered.

"Lost in the moment and all that. I think. Sorry," Hermione said, moaning at the feel of his thumb rubbing her between her legs.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," Sirius said, as he leaned over her and pushed into her slowly, watching her lips fall open at the sensation. "Just know that when I do 'surprise' you, you're going to remember it for all the right reasons."

"I'll believe that when I see it," she said cheekily, and then all conversation ended in favour of different pleasant sounds.

* * *

_Sneak Peek Chapter Nineteen._

_"__Your birthday is coming up", she said, touching a spoon against her lips. He was making oats for breakfast since she had somehow managed to burn the toast again._

_He grunted._


	19. Chapter Nineteen: Passion and Punch

**Disclaimer: **All canon characters, places, plots and situations from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from this.

**Warnings: **Rated M for language, violence and scenes of a sexual nature in later chapters.

**A/N: **This is a pretty Hermione and Sirius centered chapter. Enjoy, action is on it's way ;)

oOoOoOo

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

Please note this chapter includes scenes of a sexual nature, and suggestive language.

oOoOoOo

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen: Passion doesn't pull punches**

oOoOoOo

"Ugh, these warming charms are doing nothing for me," Hermione whispered to Mari.

"Tell me about it, I'm freezing my tits off," came the miserable response. Beside her, Severus choked as a sip of tea went down the wrong way. Mari patted him soothingly on the back, smiling prettily when he removed his cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. Hermione was sure she heard a small group of women nearby sigh.

The kitchen at Grimmauld was packed with Order Members. Their latest meeting had just ended, and as usual, nobody was allowed to leave on Molly Weasley's watch, not without at least a cup of tea!

"I'll just nip out and get my jumper. Be back soon, and Mari don't eat all the marshmallow twists."

With a snarky – well Hermione supposed it was a smile of sorts – Severus leaned over and took four marshmallow twists from the table. Hermione scowled at him, resisting the urge to stick out her tongue as she left.

After a while of looking in all the usual places, she still hadn't found the blasted jumper. Determined to find her favourite jumper, her search led her to the tiny bathroom just off the library and there it was, on a hook beside the door. The bathroom was a tip. "And with guests here too," she tutted to herself. She looked around to see if anyone was approaching, and at the all-clear, took a deep breath and began moving her hands.

Towels straightened rearranging themselves into neatly folded piles. Bits and pieces of makeup and body products floated into the cabinet, which gently swung open and closed. With another wave of her hand, a fresh roll of loo paper slipped into the holder. She nodded, feeling rather smug at the progress she'd made with her wandless magic.

"You're so bloody sexy when you do that." Sirius' voice was heavy with a kind of admiration.

"What, when I change the loo roll?" she joked, turning to face him, and shivered at the depth of desire she saw in his slate grey eyes. Before she knew what was happening, he'd pushed her into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He back her up against the edge of the counter, his intentions clearly written on his face. "Sirius no, we're supposed to be at the meeting, there are heaps of people in the house, guests–"

"That's their problem." He already had his large hands on her waist, and he dipped his head to attack her neck with his lips. She moaned, then squeaked when he lifted her effortlessly, depositing her on the bathroom counter. "You've been taunting me all day in this bloody skirt," he said, making her gasp and clutch his arms when he pushed his body against her to prove just how much.

"There's not time," she half-objected, melting under his lips.

"There is," he said, and dropped to his knees. She looked down at him.

"Um. What are you doing?" He grinned, cheeky and full of naughty promises as his fingers crawled up her thighs.

"Surprising you." Before she had a chance to register what he'd said, his fingers slipped under her skirt and hooked into her knickers, drawing them down and he crumpled them in his fist, bringing the fabric up to his face and inhaling.

She blushed, horribly embarrassed. "You smell so fucking good," he growled, and stuffed the balled up lingerie in his pocket.

"Ooh be careful, those are my nice–" His hands slid up underneath her blouse, forcefully pushing her bra up to fondle and massage her breasts, thumbs ghosting her nipples, teasing them taut. Between her legs, he was holding her legs wide apart by virtue of his broad shoulders, and she felt terribly exposed and completely wanton. The first puff of his hot breath there at the aching center between her thighs made her quiver.

Hermione had never enjoyed this particular sex act. After years of unenjoyable encounters, where she'd been too self-conscious and her partners not really into it, memories of disappointed faces as though there was something wrong with her… but then his tongue lapped, long and lazy and _surely _against her and she squealed at the sensation, falling back against the mirror. In a matter of minutes he was doing things down there with his mouth that Hermione hadn't even known were possible. There was no glimmer of the uncertainty she'd experienced before, and she was surprised at how much it excited her. He buried his face into her, his nose nudging her clit and his stubble scraping here and there against the sensitive insides of her thighs, somewhere between pain and pleasure.

"Hermione? Where are you?" Mari's voice was small and tinny, somewhere nearby, and barely pierced the haze that Hermione was in.

She was panting and terrified that they would be caught. Had he even locked the door – _oh that's nggh. _"You taste incredible." He pushed two fingers into her while he sucked on her clit and Hermione's mind went even more fuzzy. The bathroom echoed with the sound of his ministrations and her muffled gasps as she scrabbled against the counter, his hand on her left hip the only thing holding her in place. The sight of his dark head between her legs, and gods, he was looking up at her with those lustful eyes as though he actually enjoyed what he was doing. The truth of that unlocked something inside of her, letting the last vestiges of her apprehension disintegrate.

"Hermione?" Mari's voice was closer.

With a rapid flick of his tongue across her, she was coming apart, clenching around his fingers and muffling her cries with the back of her hand. She was completely out of control with the reaction of her body and was sure she would have slid right off the counter if he hadn't been holding her up. "Oh god," she gasped. "Oh god oh god."

When she opened her eyes, he was smiling smugly, as if to say 'Yes, that would be me'. He pulled out his wand and cast cleansing charms over both of them while she sagged against the mirror bonelessly. "Believe me now?" he asked, helping her onto her feet, but she was too thrown to respond. He pecked her on the cheek, rearranged himself carefully, dusted down her skirt and turned and walked out as though nothing had happened. When she followed him out, dazed, legs weak as a kitten, Mari was standing there, her eyes wide and mouth open in delighted scandal at the sight of them.

Hermione's entire face was on fire, but Sirius smirked like a cat that caught the canary, and walked off down the hallways, an arrogant swagger in his step.

Mari turned to her. "Did you two just do what I think you two just did? You did, didn't you? Scratch that, you look like you've been pulled through a hedge backwards." The blonde laughed and Hermione self-consciously patted down her hair and straightened her skirt. He had walked off with her knickers, the smug bastard.

"He does have a way about him, doesn't he?" Mari said, looking in the direction Sirius had gone.

"He does", sighed Hermione, and then the two of them shared a look, breaking into giggles.

"Where's your jumper?"

"You know, I don't think I need it after all."

When they slipped back into the kitchen, his eyes met hers across the room and he touched his hand to his pocket with a secret smile.

* * *

"Your birthday's coming up," Hermione said, touching a spoon against her lips. Sirius was cooking oats for breakfast since she'd somehow managed to burn the toast again, and there was no bread left. He grunted in response.

"You don't want to celebrate? What did you do for your last birthday? she asked.

He looked at her, raising his eyebrows. "You know, I don't actually remember. Merlin that's not good."

"Do you want a party? Maybe a small dinner like we had for Harry's birthday?"

"Honey, what I really want is to just quietly turn a year older," he laughed.

She frowned. "What, no celebration to mark the day? Sirius you missed so many birthdays, you should be able to celebrate now."

He turned to her, thoughtful. He could see that she was concerned for him. "Ok, how about this. Why don't we go away for a weekend. Just the two of us? We can say we've both got travel for work."

"Won't that look a bit fishy?"

"I'm not sure if I care right now," he said, a little exasperated though well aware that it was a mutual decision they had made to keep their relationship strictly within their tight circle of friends. The bubble was nice. The bubble was safe. The bubble might be getting claustrophobic. Not that he didn't enjoy spending time with Hermione; it sometimes frightened him just how content he had become, spending most of his time awake and asleep with her at his side.

"Where do you want to go?" she asked, and he smiled at the way her eyes sparkled at the excitement of actually going away together, to a place where they wouldn't worry about being seen or recognised.

He filled up their bowls with oats. "My family had a holiday villa in Oia. Don't think they sold it. The weather would be nice this time of year, not too may tourists either. We could take a portkey, I'm sure Harry could pull some strings. What?"

Her jaw had dropped. "Oia? Santorini? You have a house in Greece?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "Er, yeah, I guess that is it." He poured milk into their bowls, added honey for himself and nuts for her.

"Ok," she said, beaming, her smile making him smile too. It was even a little exciting the more he thought about it.

"Yeah?"

"Yes, Sirius Black, I will let you take me to your house on a Greek Island. It's a terrible inconvenience, but it is your birthday wish."

He snorted and looped his arms around her waist as she looped her around his neck. "And just how much can I 'inconvenience' you on this trip?" He massaged her lower back with his thumbs.

Whatever this phase of their relationship was, he was giddy with it. As the trust had built between them, they had reached a place where they were unable to keep their hands off one another when they could be alone.

"I'll spoil you any way you want," she said, biting her lower lip. Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Really now? Anything I want?"

* * *

Good old Harry came through, managing to organise them a portkey that would take them to just outside Oia. They would have to ride down to the coast from there. Hermione was grateful for the anonymity and secrecy of her work then, since her co-workers asked no questions. Mari, she told of course.

Five days before Sirius' birthday they arrived via portkey on a winding dirt road high up overlooking Oia and the Greek sea. It was a sunny day, much warmer than London but not blistering. They caught a ride down the mountain, a shaky trip down a bumpy dirty road. Hermione grabbed at his arm every time the small car threatened to tip over, and they couldn't stop laughing.

Hermione could scarcely believe her eyes when they arrived at the Black Villa. It was beautiful, perched almost right on the edge of the sparkling blue ocean, with a private beach. The colours of the houses on the hill were stunning, the whites standing out against the dark rock of the mountain.

The Villa was enormous. Between the cobbled-stone walls facing the sea and the lime-washed stone of the main building, Hermione had the impression of being in a cool, earthy home that was part of the mountain itself. The rooms were large, tiled and decorated sparingly and tastefully. There were tow outside areas for lounging, both shaded by swathes of fabric above.

"Pick a room for us," Sirius said, pointing down a hallway while he offloaded some of the groceries they had brought with them into the large marbled kitchen.

Hermione felt a little bit like she was dreaming. Every room was beautiful, but in the end she chose one that was large and tiled with a massive king-sized four-poster bed with drapes. There was a balcony that faced out to sea, with a tidy wrought iron table and chairs for al fresca dining, and a staircase carved out of the rock giving access down to the private beach. The ensuite was something out of a fantasy; it literally had been carved out of the mountain itself. A large recessed tub was in the middle of the bathroom, carved directly into the stone floor. There was a simply enormous shower head above it, and two basins, porcelain, at one end of the room. Here and there were scattered pristine white rocks and pebbles, and a few candles. There was an assortment of bath products in glass bottles beside the tub.

"This one then?" he said behind her, wrapping his arms around her middle. "Yes", she breathed.

The next four days were filled with sunshine, icy cocktails, books, beach and sex. One afternoon they took a walking tour of the beautiful churches in the area. Another evening they made their way down a winding flight of narrow stairs that never seemed to end, to reach a restaurant greatly recommended by the locals. It was on the edge of the beach and the food was rustic but plentiful and delicious. Hermione enjoyed the best seafood she'd ever eaten in her life, and Sirius was a little too partial to the wine and Ouzo and they'd had to catch a cab back up to the villa.

It was easy to forget their troubles, the ones in London as well as the troubles of their own minds. Locals treated them like any couple on holiday; one little Greek man in a café where they bought ice cream handed over Hermione's chocolate chip gelato to Sirius, "Here sir, for your wife". She'd looked at him, expecting him to correct the man or at the very least look uncomfortable, but he'd just smiled and handed her the cone.

On that evening they watched the sunset from the balcony of their villa, and when, later, they came together in bed, he looked down at her arm and asked her to show him. Nervous, she'd removed the glamour, revealing the visible scar his cousin had engraved into her flesh. He'd kissed every inch of her scar, bringing tears to her eyes, and attended to her with such passion she could barely breathe.

* * *

On the morning of Sirius' birthday, they were lying lazily in bed. It was so quiet there, the sound of water lapping against the shore outside. For some reason Sirius' was suddenly aware of his age and past and felt insecure.

"I'm thirty-nine years old," he said.

"I know," said Hermione, playing with a lock of his hair.

"I was in prison for twelve years."

"Not guilty."

"I'm damaged."

"Aren't we all?"

"You're so young", he breathed, tucking a curl behind her ear.

"I like that you're a man." She stroked his arms. "I like that you have a man's chest, and a man's arms. I like that when I kiss your neck you smell like a man. I like you just the way you are." She lightly scratched her nails on his chest and he made a sound rather like a purr, his chest rumbling with contentment beneath her touch.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather be with someone your own age?"

"Babe. No."

"Don't you want to get married? Have children?"

"Is that a proposal?" she joked.

He laughed nervously. "No, it's a question."

She rested her chin on his chest, looking up into his eyes. "Sirius I want this. I want what we have and wherever it takes us, and if that involves a ring and babies and a mortgage in Surrey, then it'll be. If it doesn't, I'll still be happy."

"You're happy?" he asked softly.

She looked down, playing with the hair on his chest. "Yes. I am."

"Why do I feel like that comes with a caveat?"

She sighed. "I… I find it difficult to just be happy without worrying that it'll all fall apart."

"I'm not going anywhere sweetheart."

She sat up, the sheets pooling around her waist, her breasts bathed in the sunlight coming in through the window. He had convinced her of the benefits of naked sunbathing the day before. "That's not a promise anyone can make", she said, picking at the fabric in her lap.

"Then I don't want to go anywhere. Better?" He ran a finger down her bare spine.

A small smile played on her lips. "A little."

"Do you think we've moved too fast, love?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Her eyebrows were furrowed.

"I mean its only four months since we got together."

"Huh," she said, and then, "I noticed you so much earlier than that, I guess I feel like we're been together longer."

"Oh you noticed me did you?" he teased her. She rolled her eyes.

"I'm sure I don't need to stroke your ego, lest your head explodes."

He laughed. "I noticed you earlier too, you know."

"Rubbish!" she laughed. "You flirt with everyone. You even flirt with Charlie!"

He shrugged. "It makes him smile. I'm a generous man." She smacked his arm playfully.

He swallowed hard against the self-consciousness that threatened to still his tongue. "Really though, Hermione. You were brilliant and smart and gorgeous and totally unaware of it. I remember watching you one weekend we were all at the Burrow. You were sitting under that tree by the lake. We were all swimming but you had your nose stuck in that book, and you were so focused you didn't even notice the leaves falling into your hair. You looked up at me and smiled, looking like some sort of wood nymph, bare feet, flimsy sun-dress and bits of tree in your hair.

But that wasn't all of it. When we got to talking later, I realised that I was attracted to you, and you'd been turning me on with your mind for some time. It just took me some time to register it."

He played with the tendrils of her hair hanging down her back. "Do I sound ridiculous?"

She shook her head slowly, a saucy smile on her face even though her eyes shimmered. "You sound like a man who's ready to be spoilt on his birthday. So what exactly did you have in mind?"

His eyes widened, and he leaned forward, whispering in her ear, then leaned back again, his eyes trained on her for her response.

"Well," she said, after a few beats. Her cheeks were pink. '"I can't say I've ever done that before, but yes." He grinned a very boyish grin at her, pulling her down beneath the sheets with him, making her squeal.

"Happy birthday darling."

"Mhmm, certainly is."

A day later their holiday away from the world had come to an end. In order to avoid suspicious, the plan was for Hermione to portkey home first, with Sirius returning two days later. "What are you going to do for two days?" she asked him, her suitcase packed beside her.

"I think I'll go to Italy. There are some family assets there that I'd like to look into."

So she returned home by herself, hoping the mild tan she had wasn't too obvious.

* * *

Mid November came with change once more. The trees shed their sunset shaded leaves, turning the ground everywhere to mulch with the rains. The Prophet ran daily updates on the capture and arrest of war fugitives. The Order meetings had become tense, the Aurors were capturing a steady stream of fugitives but there were still too many at large, with strange deaths making the Muggle news each week.

"They're not even murdering to save their own arses", said Ginny. "They're murdering for the fun of it." An afternoon at the Burrow had turned into an impromptu Order meeting while the children were playing and napping.

"They know we're watching, they're sending us a message. The War isn't over for them, for any of that anti-Muggle crowd." Harry's mouth was set grimly.

"They're weak", said Sirius. "They're getting desperate, it feels like they're trying too hard."

"We can't just let Muggles die", said Hermione. "What are the Aurors doing about it?"

Tonks spoke up. "We've got a plan, we're going to smoke the rodents out of their hidey holes. We're setting it up."

"Good god", said Ginny, exasperated. She was over term by a week already, feeling fat and tired and emotional. "We can't just sit back! What if it was one of ours? What if it was Hermione? Was that dagger not enough?" Harry tried to shush her, but it was too late. Sirius and Harry exchanged a look.

"What dagger?" asked Hermione quietly and Harry winced.

"Nothing you have to worry about, love" he said to Hermione, but it was the worst thing he could have said.

She looked at him, incredulous, then turned to Harry. "Harry Potter you tell me right now or I swear by Merlin's socks I will make you sorry." Harry believed her; her wandless magic was far too scary to ignore.

So he told her; he told her about the dagger, he told her everything. By the end she was trembling. "You kept this from me? You had no right Harry!"

"Hermione it was pointless you worrying, you were safe and we were on the job," reasoned Harry, but Sirius _knew_ they had made a terrible, terrible mistake by treating Hermione like a fragile decoration, something to be broken. She turned on him.

"And you" she spat, the betrayal and anger in her eyes so intense he almost couldn't look at her. Looking at an angry Hermione when you'd really fucked up was like looking into the sun. Shaking, she walked straight to the floo and threw a pinch of floo powder in. Before anyone could stop her, she said in a strong voice, "Grimmauld Place" and then she was gone.

* * *

_Sneak Peek Chapter Twenty._

_She pushed by him to leave the room, and he reached out, grabbing her upper arm, forcing her back to him. She yelped. His fingers were tight around her arm and he was being rough. "Let me go! And don't fucking call me a little girl!"_


	20. Chapter Twenty: Revelations and relation

**Disclaimer: **All canon characters, places, plots and situations from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from this.

**Warnings: **Rated M for language, violence and scenes of a sexual nature in later chapters.

**A/N: **Thank you to those of you who have reviewed, I appreciate the feedback more than you know. Although the plot is pretty much cemented, hearing your perspectives as readers is really helpful with the rest. It's also really encouraging knowing you're keen for more to help me get through the difficult bits.

Back to the story - up until now, Hermione and Sirius' relationship has been fairly stable, even if the world around them hasn't. Despite both of them having good reasons to fear the unsettle in their world, this is something that they both, to some extent, are familiar with. The fact is that for both of them, the relationship they have embarked on is in many ways the unknown.

oOoOoOo

**WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

Please note this chapter includes scenes of a sexual nature, and suggestive language.

oOoOoOo

* * *

**Chapter Twenty: Revelations and relation**

oOoOoOo

"Blimey, what'd you two do to Hermione to get her spitting mad?" asked George. Harry shot him a warning look. The room was silent and Mrs. Weasley was looking at Harry disapprovingly.

"Auror matters."

Sirius, meanwhile, was stock still, his eyes still trained on the spot where Hermione had been standing seconds before.

"I'll go–" said Harry, but Sirius shoved past his godson, unable to look at him, even, and went straight through the Floo. With a stomach-turning 'whoosh' he was standing in the living room at Grimmauld. Hermione was staring at him, a few feet from the fireplace. She glared in disbelief, and stalked towards the kitchen.

"Wait. Babe please."

She was almost out the backdoor. There was nowhere to go from the back yard, so Sirius moved faster to stop her. Shoulders stiff, she turned to him. It physically hurt him to see the mistrust in her eyes. He had to make her understand.

"Love, you have to understand, we were only trying to keep you safe, save you the worry–"

"Save me the worry?" she said incredulously. Sirius winced. "You really are full of bullshit Sirius–"

"Hey now–" He reached out for her and she flinched, moving back.

"You wanted me to live under your protection, like a- like a _child!"_

"That's not true! I'm trying to be a good partner–"

She cut him off with a derisive laugh, an ugly, pained sound and he gestured helplessly. "Hermione please, believe me."

She snorted. "You know, this is something I could expect of Harry." She smiled tightly, her eyes staring through the tiled floor. "He's almost as mental when it comes to unnecessary guilt. But you! _Y-you!_"

She swiped angrily at her eyes. "You knew how I felt. You knew that I wanted- I needed to face up to _him. _I'm tired of being afraid and you knew how much I–" Her voice cracked and she wobbled backwards, holding out her palm to stop Sirius from getting any closer.

Sirius growled in frustration, tugging at his own hair to stop himself from reaching out for her. "That's what we were trying to do! Merlin Hermione, you can't even say his name!"

"This is not about me, this is about you and your damned guilt," she screamed. "You let me think I could trust you-"

"Hermione…" said Sirius weakly.

"What is it this time? You're the reason my parents are dead? The reason my friends are dead? Just how big is your bloody ego, Sirius? How much do you think you control, that you have to make up for?"

He stared at her, speechless as her words bit into him.

"You're ridiculous, you know that?" she said, her eyes glittering and hard. "You get another chance at life and what do you do? You waste it brooding about the years you didn't get, the things you didn't do!"

The fuck? "You're a naive little girl if you think missing twenty years of your life is nothing!" yelled Sirius, hurt. There was a stand-offish silence.

"I didn't say that," said Hermione eventually, her voice low and measured. "It's horrible and unfair and if there were any way for you to get that back I'd do anything to help, but there isn't, and I can't! When are you going to stop trying to fix the past and start building a future? Why do you insist on looking back when there's so much to look forward to-"

"Why do you insist on pretending like the past didn't happen," demanded Sirius. "Like it hasn't fucked you up too? Tell me, love, what exactly is it you think I have to look forward to?!"

"Argh!" yelled Hermione in frustration, pushing past him to leave the room. The thick, pig-headed, self-obsessed-

He reached out and grabbed her by the upper arm, forcing her back towards him and making her yelp. His fingers were tight around her arm and he was being rough. "Let me go! And don't call me a little girl!"

"No! You tell me what I have to look forward to!" he shouted, furious.

"Like me! I love you!" she yelled.

"IF YOU DIE, I DON'T _HAVE_ A FUTURE!"

Silence suffocated the pair of them in the small space as each registered the shock and intensity of the other's confession. Hermione's eyes softened and to Sirius, everything ceased to exist apart from the woman in front of him, her eyes on his, dark and passionate, her face flushed and her love… she'd said she loved him.

They would never be sure who moved first, but all at once they were on each other, Sirius pulling her tightly to him and pressing his mouth hard against hers, demanding and desperate. Hermione whimpered but pushed herself against him as he rubbed his lips across her skin messily. She gasped at the onslaught of attention his teeth paid the soft yielding flesh of her neck, and raked her short nails across his shoulders in retaliation, making him hiss.

He lifted her off her feet, depositing her on the kitchen counter behind her and pushed his way between her legs so they were pressed together hard and intimately. "Tell me," he rasped, his fingers gripping the soft flesh of her sides, restrainedly begging for permission.

"Yes," she gasped. She crushed her mouth to his, reaching down and deftly unbuckling his belt. They pushed and fumbled, whimpering sounds that could have come from either of them, or both - it didn't matter. Sirius reached under her skirt and fairly ripped away her knickers. The scrap of fabric went flying behind him, landing in the sink with the dirty dishes. He pulled her roughly to him, one arm cinched around her waist while the other hand tangled possessively in the curls at the base of her neck. There were only a few intense moments, gazing into her eyes, and then it took a single thrust and he was inside her. Both of them cried out at the feeling. He pushed his forehead against hers, breathing harshly so all that he could smell was her sweet breath, and began to move in long, hard strokes. Hermione mewled helplessly, jolted against the kitchen bench. Her hand shot out for balance and a half-filled coffee cup went flying. The crash barely registered.

"Sirius," she whimpered, and he panted, his eyes burning. When her pupils dilated until almost all the whiskey was gone, he felt her convulse and shudder around him, chanting his name. He pressed his face into her neck.

"I love you," he said thickly, and shuddered, coming with shaking legs.

When the lights stopped flashing behind his eyes he pressed his forehead to her shoulder. Both of them were breathing hard. "I'm so sorry. Gods I'm so sorry. You deserve someone younger, less messed up, you're right-"

"No, _don't. _I want _you,"_ she said plaintively. "I only want you." Sirius shivered at her words, tempering the desire to believe her and fall apart in her arms, with the fact of his betrayal.

"I should have told you," he whispered. "I didn't want to hurt you, I just wanted to take care of you because I- because I love you."

"I love you," she said immediately. "You can't protect me from life, Sirius." She stroked his hair.

He lifted his head to look into her whiskey eyes, cradling her face between his palms. "I know," he confessed, his throat tight. "I know, I–"

A quick movement in the doorway drew their attention and they both turned to see a large silvery wolf floating there. The wolf Patronus opened it's mouth. "The baby is coming. We've gone to St. Mungos," came Remus' familiar voice, and then the wolf faded into wisps of smoke that dissipated into nothingness.

It took them a few minutes to pull themselves together. Sirius shot longing glances in Hermione's direction as they neatened themselves, feeling the words he wanted to say and didn't know, stick in his throat.

"This doesn't–," said Hermione suddenly. She ran her fingers through her hair in an attempt to neaten it. "It's not–"

Sirius nodded mutely, buckling his trousers. Sirius let her through the Floo first, taking a deep breath before he followed.

* * *

St. Mungos bright white walls and lights were a shock after the sunlit kitchen. Hermione strode ahead, walking with purpose. Considering the sheer number of children born amongst the lot of them, the Birthing Ward of the wizarding hospital was familiar territory and it wasn't difficult to find their party crowding up the waiting room.

She was grateful for the ability to get lost in a crowd like theirs; the two of them slipped into the back next to George and Luna, and the Lupins.

"Oh you haven't killed one another," said George with a glance in their direction. "Marvellous. The Healer says it won't be long since it's Gin's third. You'll probably be seeing your god-daughter soon." As if on cue, there was a piercing scream from behind the doors leading to the birthing suites and most of them winced. Mrs. Weasley, on the other hand, looked delirious with excitement. "You know," said George thoughtfully, "It's moments like these that I really want to punch Harry in the face."

Hermione glanced up at Sirius and was surprised to see that his face had gone pale. She watched as Remus transfigured his handkerchief into a cup and filled it with cold water, handing it to Sirius.

"He was like this when Lily was having Harry," said their tall friend. Sirius turned impossibly paler at the sound of the next scream, and George, who had been listening from the other side, raised his eyebrows.

"Oh you have got to be joking," he said gleefully. "Mister Prison Tattoos Auror McMotorbikes here is squeamish about childbirth?"

Finally the doors to the wards opened and Harry came out, his hairline damp with sweat and massaging the fingers of one hand with the other. He grinned broadly. "She's here!" Cheering and clapping along with calls of congratulations filled the room. Albus clapped along with everyone, whilst James fell to his knees and began wailing in distress.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Harry's boys were the first to be allowed into the suite. The only others who would go in for that day were the godparents.

"Is everything okay?" Hermione looked up. Remus was shooting concerned looks between her and Sirius, who was staring at the doors, fidgeting.

"I… I don't know," said Hermione, tears threatening to fall. The comforting hand Remus placed on her shoulder helped her compose herself. Still, she noticed the questioning looks they got as the others left.

Eventually it was their turn and when they entered the room, Ginny was sitting up in the bed, her face almost as red as her bedraggled hair, but glowing with euphoria as she cradled a small pink bundle in her arms. Harry was perched on the side of the bed, staring down between his wife and new daughter with awe.

"We named her Lily," said Hermione's best friend, and took the baby from his wife, holding her out to his own godfather. Hermione heard the soft intake of breath beside her when Sirius took the sleeping newborn into his arms.

"She's so tiny," he said, staring in wonder. "Am I holding her properly? Been a while since I held a newborn." He all but whispered the last, and Hermione knew he was thinking about many, many years ago when he'd once held Harry in his arms for the first time. His eyes sparkled unrestrainedly with unshed tears and a flood of love pooled in Hermione's chest along with the pain that seemed to have taken residence there.

She sensed Harry come up beside her.

"Hermione… I'm so sorry. Is everything okay?" he whispered.

She debated how to answer, the anger having worked its way out of her system to leave the aching ball of fear behind. She could not even sum up the energy to be mad at Harry. "I don't know," she said quietly, for the second time that evening.

"Hermione, I'm really so–"

She turned to green eyes. "It's not important right now," she murmured.

"I'm hoarding," said Sirius with a small, shaky laugh and carefully handed the baby over into Hermione's practised arms. The infant was gorgeous, with the usual grey-blue eyes of a newborn, and a decent amount of dark red hair. She felt Sirius' hand on her back, the other cradling the baby under her own and a moment of peace settled over her.

"Everything will be okay," she murmured uncertainly, to whom she couldn't be sure. "Hello little one," she whispered, the warm, solid weight of the softly breathing infant in her arms acting as a calming presence beside the weight of fear and love in her heart.

* * *

The Floo home was quiet and by the time they got home it was dark. Both of them were too exhausted to do anything besides crawl into bed, and even though it was technically his bedroom, Sirius hesitated as Hermione slipped between the covers on what had since become her side of the bed. "Don't be silly," she said tiredly, lifting the blanket on his side in invitation. With marginal relief, Sirius got into the bed and pure exhaustion had the both of them asleep within minutes.

Hermione woke in the middle of the night to the bed shaking slightly. Sirius was perched on his side of the bed, his shoulders sloped as he sobbed in that eerie, silent way of his.

"Babe what's wrong?" she whispered, her voice raspy with sleep.

There was a quick sniff. "Nothing, love, go back to sleep."

Hermione sighed, sitting up to lean her chin on his shoulder. He turned to her slightly and his eyes were dark and shiny. "Just a dream," he said. "Baby reminds me of Lily."

He had had a dream about his old friends that was so similar to memory it had been overwhelmingly vivid. He was in the hospital, holding Harry in his arms for the first time. Remus and Peter were there, blurs in the background, but James and Lily were clear as day, and the three of them were giddy with happiness. Then he'd woken up disoriented and when he came back to himself the pain of loss had washed over his anew.

It was more than Sirius had ever said on the subject before, and Hermione listened quietly, rubbing his arm until he fell silent. There was something about whispering in the dark, perhaps even how emotionally exhausted he was that seemed to allow Sirius to speak more openly that usual, and as Hermione learned this she felt only a little guilty taking advantage of his vulnerability. She needed to know.

"Why do you cry so quietly?"

It was a moment before he answered, and the answers made Hermione wish she hadn't asked as much as she was glad she had.

"When I was young," he said haltingly, "my parents… well let's just say they were nothing like yours. They were… free with their hands and their wands. He touched his fingers to a scar on his neck that Hermione had always assumed came from his time during the war, or on the run after Azkaban. "I learned early on that the best way to avoid… more… was to keep my tears to myself. I guess it started then. And then–" He swallowed, but forced the words out. "In Azkaban, the last thing you want is for them to hear you cry. It makes things- the Dementors, they-" He rubbed wearily at his eyes. "It's worse."

He fell silent once more, yawning widely while Hermione fought the tears that threatened to fall hearing Sirius' experiences. Her understanding of the man beside her grew, and with it, her guilt at their fight the day before. As he settled back into bed and she wrapped her small form around his back, spooning him, her mind worked overtime to see a future for the two of them.

What Sirius had done was wrong, but she could understand from where it came. But was that enough? Would it ever be enough to understand? Could Sirius ever let go of the past, and what could Hermione do to help him overcome the fears that drove him? Or would she have to accept that this was it?

* * *

Their hideout was small and cramped to begin with, so the added tension that was radiating towards Harry from his godfather didn't help. There wasn't much he could say, though. Sirius, to his credit had reigned in his usual dramatics, although he was still short with Harry and Harry understood why. Although two weeks had passed since their blowout, while Hermione had given Harry the tongue-lashing he'd expected – and dreaded - she had also forgiven him, but things between his best friend and his godfather still seemed to be in a very odd place, and he wanted to help fix it. Sirius, although saying more to Harry than he had in a fortnight, was reticent.

"Do you really think this is the time to be talking about this?" he asked tightly.

"You're really telling me your head is in the game right now?" asked Harry.

Sirius snorted. "I'm telling you that it's odd for your boss to be distracting you while you're on the job."

Well. He might have a point there, Harry conceded, but he couldn't leave things there.

"Look, you're angry with me, and rightly so-"

Sirius laughed humourlessly. "No son, I'm not angry with you. Yes, I was. But who I'm really pissed at is myself. I should have told Hermione."

"I forbade you to, as your boss," justified Harry.

"It wasn't an Unbreakable Vow, Harry. I could have. I should have. Told her I mean."

"Maybe so but I've explained to Hermione, told her it's my fault-"

"It's not _like _that, Harry. Think about it. If it'd been Ginny. Actually - remember you told me how mad she was when she found out that the three of you had left on your 'camping trip' without her?"

"I was just trying to protect her," said Harry, understanding. "But even afterwards she was angry for the longest time." His eyebrows arched in memory. "It took months before she gave me the time of day again."

"Yes. Well. I can't wait that long," said Sirius, his foot jiggling anxiously. A small group of youth dressed in tattered jeans and band t-shirts walked by and his eyes darted after them before he relaxed slightly.

"I knew we shouldn't take tip-offs from Mr. Roland," said Harry, massaging a calf muscle that had gone tight from standing in the same awkward position for too long. "Wizard's batty as it is. Do you know he-"

"I love her Harry. And I told her."

Harry blinked. He hadn't been expecting that, even though he'd suspected for a long while, probably longer than Sirius had, even, that his godfather was in love with Hermione.

"Sirius, that's… good, right? I mean, she did say…"

"Yeah." Harry could see the flush on his godfather's face even in the dim light. "But that doesn't mean anything if she-"

"It does," said Harry firmly, then once more when Sirius looked at him sceptically. "It does. Now's not the time to skip out, Sirius. If you- if you're serious about it, then now's not the time to turn and run. Give her time."

* * *

"He _loves _you."

"He _lied _to me."

"But he loves you. People make stupid mistakes with the best intentions, Hermione. Not all of them are nefarious. A little selfish, perhaps, but not intentionally hurtful."

Of all the places Hermione might've thought to find herself in a Wednesday evening, it would not have included Severus Snape's admittedly tasteful cottage home, curled up on his couch opposite Mari, who, after two weeks was _still _trying to convince her to put aside her doubts and fears about her relationship with Sirius, and move on.

"Books, a wizard is never more stupid than when he loves a witch." Mari glanced over her shoulder towards the kitchen, where someone was whistling merrily along with the crash of dishes. Hermione thanked her stars that she couldn't actually _see _Severus Snape being sappy. A smile on his face might be a little too much to handle at this point.

As if performing Legilimency, the wizard in question came into the room, a startlingly smug, secretive smile on his face as he leaned over his girlfriend's shoulder to kiss her as though Hermione didn't even exist. Mari reached a hand up to cup her wizard's face, and that was the moment when Hermione noticed the sparkling engagement ring on her friend's finger.

* * *

**A/N:** This was a really difficult chapter to write.


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